


Homeless Houses

by onedirectionrody



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Harry used to self-harm but no longer does, Humor, M/M, Romance, do NOT read if that might trigger you please!!!!, though he comes close once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-03 14:41:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 46,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onedirectionrody/pseuds/onedirectionrody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is not a whore. He’s just lonely.<br/>Louis is not in love with his straight best friend. Except he kind of is. A little.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1: Harry

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Cody and I (Raven) are obsessed with One Direction. It is not a positive thing. If you are not yet obsessed, please do not read this fic. We do not want to convert you into what we have become.
> 
> Hello again! The chapter end notes are going to include some treats, now that this is finished (*sobs*). Keep an eye out!

“OOOOHHHH GOD!!!!” Harry and Taylor’s screams melded together, a symphony of pure ecstasy. Heart pounding, Harry collapsed his side looked over at Taylor’s nude, flushed form.

“Wow… that was just… wow.” Harry’s voice came out in a low growl, strained by his inability to catch his breath.

“Yeah, it was great. My friends were right; you definitely know what you’re doing.” Taylor said with a quick smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Harry reached over to stroke the length of her arm. “Hey, why don’t I make us some breakfast? I know that it’s after dark, but, honestly, I’m a fabulous cook and it’s always time for breakfast. And, I can make pancakes in the shape of little hearts… you know, to help set the mood for round two.” He wiggled his eyebrows and grinned wide, all dimples and startlingly white teeth.

Taylor averted her gaze and rolled away from Harry’s touch and off the bed, quickly converting his purple satin sheets into a makeshift dress. “Oh, that’s um, sweet. But no, I should, um… get home.”

Harry’s smile disappeared. He struggled to keep his breathing even as her words settled in his gut like a clenched fist. A big, fucking monster of a fist.

 _But… we just… I fucking love you._ He kept his face neutral as she retrieved her discarded clothing from various locations around the room (how the hell did her bra end up hanging from the chandelier?). It didn’t take her long, and soon she was running out of his bedroom, throwing him a short goodbye over her shoulder and leaving his sheets in a limp puddle by the door.

Harry didn’t move, couldn’t move as the violent sobs took hold of his body. His entire frame shook, each of his muscles recoiling from what felt like thousands of fiery, miniscule pin pricks. The sounds of his agony reverberated throughout the wide expanse of his empty house, searching for someone to care, for someone to actually fucking care, but finding no one.

_Not again. Oh God, please no. I can’t do this again, it’s too fucking much. Please, what am I supposed to do?_

_Louis._ The thought was so natural that it almost didn’t register.

 _Yes, call Louis._ Harry scrambled off the bed and didn’t even bother with clothes as he raced to the other side of the room to where his white skinny jeans lay jumbled beneath his desk. He fished his phone out of the front pocket and, though his brain was still buzzing, his fingers pounded out the familiar numbers of their own accord.

“’Ello?” The breath that he didn’t realize he’d been holding came out in a rush. _Louis._

He would recognize that warm, intentionally unenthusiastic (because, let’s be honest, Louis thinks he’s too cool for enthusiasm) voice anywhere. It sounded tired, undoubtedly because Louis had just had to wrestle the twins to sleep, which was no easy task for even the manliest of men. Except for Harry; the twins loved Harry. But despite the exhaustion, which was there more often than not these days, Louis still sounded strong. That was Louis. His best friend. His rock. The person who always held him and made him tea when Harry fell in love with yet another girl who only wanted to sleep with him once just so she could say that she did. Who didn’t want to cuddle after sex, or let him make her eggs and toast or pancakes shaped like tiny hearts. Who didn’t really care about him at all, and just viewed sleeping with him as a rite of passage that she needed to undergo and later pretend never happened. But Louis made him forget all of that. Louis and that warm, steady voice that made everything somehow okay. _Louis. Louis. Louis._

Harry hung up the phone before it started ringing. Louis deserved the world, deserved to be happy. He deserved to have the best friend that everyone assumed Harry to be, all bright green eyes and cocky grins and just… carefree. That’s the Harry that Louis deserved, and that was the Harry that he was going to get.

_Because I can’t chase him away too._

The sudden silence was almost too much, and left no place for Harry to hide from the pain. The sweet, musty smell of sex that permeated the air made him sick, a suddenly rancid reminder of his rejection. Unable to take the pressure building behind his temple, he held his breath and padded across the room to the adjoining bathroom. He couldn’t take it anymore; he had to do something.

 _Bottom drawer._ Harry’s breath hitched, and he made his way to the bathroom sink, its black marble surface glinting in the faint light that poured in from his bedroom. He reached down and pulled open a drawer beneath the sink, the one on the bottom right. Harry felt his body relax as he saw his old friend staring back at him, its sharp edges glimmering. His fingers traced the faint scars along his left wrist, normally hidden by the myriad bracelets he wore on a daily basis. His little secrets.

_One swipe and all the pressure, all of the pain, would fade away._

His hand reached for the razor, but he jerked it back before he made contact with the smooth surface. He thought of Louis and his strong voice.

_No. Not again. Not ever again._

Instead, he reached for the familiar numbness that he knew dwelt beneath the roaring pain. It was hard to find at first, but it was there, waiting to embrace him. He sank to the bathroom floor, the cool tiles greeting him with gentle caresses.

_Sleep. Just sleep._

He buried his head in his hands and let himself drift into the numbness. Tears pattered softly against the bathroom floor.


	2. Chapter 2:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm uploading the first few chapters all at once! Then it will be every Sunday

“Fuck,” Louis said succinctly, looking at his alarm clock. “Fuck.”

He jumped out of bed and ran to Lottie’s room, knocking quickly before barging in. “Lot, come on, Wake up!”

Lottie blinked slowly, luxuriously even, her round blue eyes blurred with sleep.

Louis huffed a sigh, but started over. “Lottie, love. We’re late. Hurry up! I’m going to need your help with the girls.”

She (finally) sat up, already rolling her eyes. “Again, Lou? Seriously?”

“I know, love. Sorry, sorry! Just wear that grey shirt with your black jeans and the tall boots, okay? And don’t even try to put on any makeup. This is not an episode of Skins and you are not Effie Stonem.” Louis was already halfway out her bedroom door, shouting the last quip over his shoulder.

“I can dress myself, you know. I am 11. Plus, I think that shirt’s in the laundry.”

“And I’m 18 and wiser. And I know you want Alexander the Great to look at you. Laundry’s folded and on your dresser!” Louis called from halfway down the hall.

“Would you stop calling Alex that!”

“You called him ‘great’ five times in one sentence, Lot,” Louis yelled, running by with the twins in tow.

“That is an exaggeration. It was four, max,” Lottie yelled back, brushing her hair.

“ _Definitely_ five.”

Louis conveniently launched into the “toothy-teeth” song, drowning out Lottie’s (very ladylike, he’s sure) response. As he sang and wiped their sleep-crusted faces, Daisy and Phoebe brushed their teeth. Then, Louis wrestled them into matching jeans and striped t-shirts.

“Aaaaand… strike a pose!” Louis crowed in his best RuPaul impersonation. The sleepy twins popped their hips and threw their hands in the air. “Gorgeous, ladies. Ab-so-lute-ly gorgeous. Now go watch some Elmo while I make you some breakfast.”

“Okay,” Phoebe said, still recovering from her rude awakening.

“As long as it’s just cereal,” Daisy looked at Louis suspiciously.

“Okay, okay,” muttered Louis. “For God’s sake! I burn toast one time!”

Fizz rushed by, Lottie chasing after her with a hairbrush, screeching “You burnt the _toaster_ , Lou. Not just the toast.”

Louis grinned and shook his head “So just cereal, then.”

“JUST CEREAL,” his four sisters yelled back in unison.

Louis chuckled, grabbing a beanie and stuffing his shock of brown hair back into it. He stopped and stuck his tongue out at the mirror, glaring at his plain white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. _Oh well_ , he thought to himself. Sometimes he’s glad he’s in love with a straight boy.

As if on cue, a horn honked and his cell phone began to ring.

“Shit,” Louis groaned dramatically as he answered, “Sorry, man, we’re running late. Come in and I’ll bribe you with fruit loops?”

He heard the door open and close and Daisy and Phoebe started shrieking, suddenly wide awake “Harrrrryyyyyyyy!!!” like a couple of fangirls. _Traitors_ , Louis thought. It really wasn’t their fault. Harry just had that affect on people. 

Then he heard a deep “Oooof” and a groan and Louis giggled. _Sometimes it’s inconvenient to be that attractive._

“I’ll be right out, Haz!” he shouted through a mouthful of toothpaste. “Be a dear and pour the cereal?”

“But of course, Boobear,” Harry simpered back, and Louis rolled his eyes at the titters of girlish laughter that follow. _Always the charmer, that one._

He stomped out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, where the girls were happily munching on their favorite, sugary cereal and looking at Harry with worship in their eyes.

Louis couldn’t blame them. Green eyes and pale, silky skin and chocolate ringlets and dimples and wiry muscles and long, long legs encased in tight jeans and tattoos peeking out from his short sleeves and a collar-bone revealing shirt. And cocky, cheeky grins like the one on his face when he caught Louis staring.

“See something you like, Lou?” and holy shit Louis considered pulling him in by his belt loops and kissing the smirk off his face, but there were children in the room and Harry was _straightstraightstraight_.

“Just trying to estimate how many hours your beauty routine took you today.” And this was _normal_. This was their regular banter, and Louis knew exactly how to handle it.

“Longer than yours was, babe,” Harry replied, eying the sweatpants.

Louis rolled his eyes and turned, reaching up to the cupboard to get a bowl. He maybe arched his back. A little. He glanced over his shoulder, fluttering his eyelashes. “Pretty sure my bum makes up for it, yeah?”

Harry just smiled wolfishly, all teeth, and looked him up and down lazily. “Indeed it does.”

Lottie rolled her eyes and Louis almost hugged her, because Harry is much, much better at this game than Louis is, not even taking into account how much Louis is in love with him. “Aren’t we late or something?”

“Right,” Louis said, snapping out of his Harry-trance and shoveling a few spoonfuls of cereal into his mouth.

“Attractive, Lou,” Harry made a face as Louis stuck his tongue out, half-chewed cereal and all.

“Oh, shut up. We can’t all be voted bachelor of the year, you know.”

Harry’s face dropped – just for a half a second, and then his walls flew back up. But Louis saw, and as they each buckled one of the twins into the middle row of seats in Harry’s Range Rover, he found himself sending concerned glances at the composed features of the younger boy.

Sometimes, Louis forgot that Harry’s only 16 and a bit of a train wreck. Sometimes he forgot he was a wealthy, attractive genius that went home to a big empty house every night and tried a little too hard to make people love him. Sometimes he forgot about the arm he had labeled “Things I can’t” and the “Can I cry” tracing its toned bicep. Sometimes he forgot just how badly he wanted to save Harry Styles.

Harry got into the SUV and put it in reverse, backing out of Louis’s driveway. “Stop looking at me like that,” he whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

Louis glanced in the rearview mirror. Lottie and Fizz were bickering about Spongebob of all things and Daisy and Phoebe were holding hands across the seat between them, half asleep.

“Again?”

“Again.” The word was full of faked humor, full of the fact that he probably cried all night, alone.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“You don’t need to see me like that.” But Harry was wrong. Because Louis _did_ need to see him like that. He needed to comfort him and love him and let him know that he is not leaving, that he will never leave. But Harry did not need Louis to say those things, did not need Louis to hold him.

Because Harry was straight. And Harry did not love Louis, not like Louis loved Harry.

Harry did not need Louis quite like Louis needed Harry.

After they dropped the girls at school, Harry pulled up to their college in silence. Louis saw Harry’s knuckles whiten around the strap of his designer bag.

“Mate,” he said in the calm, calm voice he used to comfort his sisters, pulling Harry to the side.

Harry tugged his arm back. “We’re going to be late.”

“I don’t give a fuck. I’m not letting you go in there like this. What can I do to fix this? Or not fix it, but make it, um, better?”

Harry was shaking, his shoulders hunched a bit. “Can you – can you just…” his voice trailed off and the next thing Louis knew, he was pressed against the brick wall and Harry was wrapped around him, his much taller stature warped so his face could bury itself in Louis’s neck. Louis did not hesitate to throw his arms around Harry (because, really, anything Harry needed was fine with him), holding him nearly as desperately as the younger boy was holding him, holding him so tightly that Harry didn’t have room to shake.

“How am I going to look at her?” Louis felt his lips shape the words against his neck almost more than he heard them. He made a concerted effort not to shiver.

“You’re not going to,” Louis responded simply, gliding his hand up and down the bumps of Harry’s vertebrae. “You’re Harry Fucking Styles. Let her think she meant nothing. That’s what she deserves.” Louis was normally a cheerful, happy person. But there was no warmth in his voice. Even he knew he sounded dangerous, almost murderous, but Harry didn’t seem to mind, crowding even closer to Louis.

“She didn’t, though,” he said, and his deep, raspy voice, his slow drawl, his posh accent, all disappeared in how young he sounded. “She didn’t mean nothing. They never do.”

“I know, love,” Louis sighed, “I know.”

 

But then the mask was back, Harry’s eyes a dark jade, his lips cocked in a crooked smirk, his tattoos and motorcycle boots dangerous.

“R-ready?” Louis stuttered, still amazed by the strength of Harry’s magnetism when he turns it on.

“A better question is whether they’re ready for me,” he said without a trace of irony in his voice.

Louis still laughed, because it was what was expected of him and because he was still high on the feel of Harry’s lips against his throat. Then, he opened the door with a flourish and Harry bowed to him mockingly, striding into the halls of a school he owns, looking dangerous and rebellious and arrogant and altogether beautiful. Louis was the only one who knew the amount of effort it took to get him there.

He shook his head. “I am so fucked.”

Louis suddenly felt a thin hand grasp his shoulder and squeeze.

“You’re drooling again, mate.”

Louis startled, “Shhh! He could hear you, asshole!”

Zayn laughed and Louis turned to see the other member of their trio flash his white teeth.

“Why am I even friends with you?” the shorter boy asked, thoroughly exasperated.

“Because us ‘flaming homosexuals’ need to stick together. Do you see anyone else here who knows all the lyrics to Rent?”

Louis sighed. “More locker art?” Zayn didn’t answer, just looked down at his sneakers. “We’ll clean it up before Harry sees it. He needs to stop getting into fights – one of these days he’s going to get hurt.”

Zayn nodded, “I love how Wonderboy found out we were getting bullied and signed up for boxing.”

Louis smiled, one of his genuine Harrysmiles, “He is a force of nature, that one.” Zayn smiled knowingly, so Louis stuttered, “Anyway, how is it that you manage to have a different boy every week, if we’re the only ones who know all the lyrics to Rent? That just doesn’t seem possible.”

Zayn rolled his eyes dramatically at the change of subject, but allowed it, “Making boys question their sexuality is literally my favorite, Lou. You know that. Plus, you could pull too if you weren’t obsessed with a certain straight playboy.”

“Don’t call him that!”

“Straight, or a playboy? Because he’s definitely both, idiot.”

“He’s not the whore everyone makes him out to be.”

“How many people has he slept with this week?”

“Two, okay? But it isn’t his fault – he hates it!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You stand by the whole ‘too-sensative-for-this-world-prostitute-with-a-heart-of-gold-thing. It’s all very _Pretty Woman_.”

“Too far, Zayn,” Louis warned, “You don’t know him like I do, okay? You don’t see him, after.”

“I bet he’s a sight to see, too – all flushed cheeks and blown-out pupils and bruised lips.” Zayn rested his cheek against his hand and fluttered his long eyelashes.

“Bitch, I will cut you,” Louis drawled. Zayn always knew when he was about to go too far. It was hard to stay mad at someone as pretty as him, with his quiff and bone structure. Sometimes, Louis wondered why he wasn’t in love with Zayn. But then he saw Harry, HarryHarryHarry, and his chest tightened and his heart squeezed and his cheeks rose in a dopey smile before he could stop it and he remembered again.

“Look, Lou. I just. Harry attracts more pussy than a fish market – we both know that. I just don’t want you to be his little slave for the rest of your lives.”

“I’m not his slave! I just, I just like doing things for him sometimes.”

Zayn just rolled his eyes and jerked his chin towards a row of lockers where Harry was leaning, already talking up another girl, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear as she blushed and giggled.

“A lot of people like doing things for him sometimes, Louis. You deserve better.”

No matter how many times he saw Harry fall in love, it always felt like a new kind of pain. Zayn grabbed his hand and squeezed, hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review!


	3. Chapter 3: Harry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last one I'm posting today

_Louis is right. I’m Harry Fucking Styles. I can’t let Taylor get to me._

Harry pushed through the front doors of Hall Cross and stopped to take in the scene around him. Students in various states of disarray were rummaging through the red lockers that lined the hallway. Harry let out a dissatisfied sigh as his gaze flickered over each of them. Why was it that Louis was the only person in this entire school, girls included, who could show up every morning without looking like he had just had a run in with some escaped convict? Aside from Zayn, that is, but Harry still wasn’t sure whether or not Zayn was entirely human, so he didn’t really count.

 _Oh, come ON._ It was all Harry could do not to go all look at your life, look at your choices as a boy from his first period English class walked by wearing stained brown skinny jeans tucked into black combat boots.

Luckily, it was at that moment that Harry saw a short, petite girl that he recognized from his AP calculus class, and was distracted from his sudden need to gouge out his eyes.

 _Monica._ While Monica was one of the “popular” girls and, unfortunately, was a distant friend of Taylor’s, she had always struck Harry as different. Whereas the vast majority of her friends thrived on gossip, Monica was quiet. She was the kind of girl who remained unnoticed in AP calc until the professor would ask a difficult question. Then, just when it seemed like nobody was going to raise their hand and end the awkward silence that threatened to extend into infinity, Monica would answer in that soft, polite voice of hers. And she was normally right, which was more than could be said for most of the other students in the class.

 _Monica._ He suddenly couldn’t help but smile.

 _Right. It’s time to get over Taylor._ Harry took a deep breath and fought down all of the nerves and the insecurity that perpetually threatened to overcome him. He took a half step forward, faltering for only a moment before breaking into a stride and assuming an air of sheer confidence.

“Hey.” Harry said in a lazy drawl, the word winding its way out of his mouth, warm and languorous. He propped his hip against the locker next to Monica’s and cocked one eyebrow in amusement as the pretty brunette turned away from her locker to face him.

“H-hey.” She stammered, her pale blue eyes widening in shock as they took in Harry’s lithe form.

He watched as her eyes darted around frantically before finally fixating on the thin strip of toned, bronze skin that peaked out between his low hanging skinny jeans and plain white tee.

“It’s Monica, right?” Harry asked in a nonchalant tone. He shifted his stance just the tiniest bit, positive that she would notice the subtle rippling of the muscles in his abdomen.

She nodded, and a faint blush began to work its way up her neck and into her face.

“Y-yeah. And you’re Harry.”

He grinned. “My reputation precedes me.” He peeled himself away from the locker and stepped forward, crowding her. Monica chomped down on her bottom lip with a row of perfectly straight pearly whites that Harry already knew would light up her face when she smiled.

“You could say that…” she said, her voice cracking mid-sentence. She turned her gaze upward, and tentatively focused on the taller boy’s startlingly green eyes.

Harry leaned in closer, the automatic rise in temperature palpable as the heat radiating off of his body collided with the solid wall of flesh in front of him.

“Good. This shouldn’t surprise you then.” He whispered in a voice so low that Monica had to lean forward to catch all of what he said.

Harry brought his lips crashing down against hers. Monica let out a helpless sigh and moved to wrap her arms around his neck. Smiling, Harry stepped back before she could embrace him, his lips burning and the faint taste of strawberry-lip balm on his tongue.

Monica stared up at him, wide eyed and breathless. He flashed her his best wicked grin and pulled out a faded slip of paper from his back pocket.

“My number.” He said, placing the piece of paper in her hand. “Text me your address and I’ll pick you up for dinner at 7.” Without waiting for a response, Harry turned on his heel and strode back down the hallway.

He spotted Louis by his locker near the end of the hall. His shoulders were slumped, which probably meant that he was pouting to Zayn, who was leaning against the adjacent locker looking as if he had just walked off the front cover of Teen Vogue, about something or another.

Without missing a step, Harry snaked his arms around Louis’ waist and pulled him up into the tightest bear hug he could manage.

“Put me down!” Louis squawked as Harry spun them in circles until he became so dizzy that he couldn’t remember which way was up. After being released, Louis promptly turned to face him, his lips already curving upward into a wide grin.

“Hazza?” Louis asked, clearly expecting an explanation for his erratic behavior.

“Monica and I are going on a date tonight and I really like her and I think that she might be different and and and…” He couldn’t get the words out fast enough.

“Oh, uh, that’s great Haz.” Louis’s smile disappeared.

Harry felt his heart sink. “Boobear, what’s…” He was suddenly interrupted by the shrill clang of the warning bell that signaled classes would be starting in five minutes.

Louis threw him a small smile that Harry immediately knew was fake.

“I’ll see you later, Haz. I should get to class.”

“See ya mate.” Zayn muttered as he and Louis made their way down the hallway.

“Okay, but don’t forget I have a boxing match later this week! You promised you’d come!” Harry yelled after them.

“I won’t!” Louis called back over his shoulder before disappearing around the corner.

Harry furrowed his brow and let out a loud sigh. He stood motionless for a second before forcing himself to move in the direction of his first class, already struggling not to smile.

_I have a date with Monica. Tonight is going to be perfect._

_#_

The pain was back, and was more intense than Harry could ever remember it being. He had been trying for the last hour to find the familiar numbness that he knew would console him, but visions from the past few hours kept forcing their way into his consciousness.

“I’m sorry, I should really get going. I mean, this was nice and all Harry, but you really aren’t the kind of guy that a girl wants to settle down with. I’m sure you understand.” Monica had blurted out before practically sprinting out of the front door to his house.

They had slept together and after Harry truly thought he had found the one. She hadn’t pulled away when he reached over after and burrowed his head into her hair, inhaling the scent of her, allowing it to permeate his entire body and wind its way around his heart. Hell, she hadn’t even pulled away when he told her he was going to go downstairs and make her breakfast even though it was well after dark. But it was all an act.

He had been on his way back up to his room to ask her how she liked her eggs cooked when he caught her trying to slip out the front door unnoticed. She had blushed and tried to soothe him with kind words, but in the end she was just like all the rest. She didn’t really care about him.

 _Nobody cares about me; nobody will ever care about me._  The pain was too much. Harry felt as if he were burning alive, the flames of yet another rejection devouring him inch by inch, merciless and insatiable.

 _There’s always the razor._ He closed his eyes and, for just a second, let himself imagine what it would feel like to run its cool metallic edges across his wrists. It would quench the flames, he knew, alleviating the pain so that all he would feel was cold. Numb and cold.

 _NO!_  He couldn’t go back to that place. Not now, not ever. Instead, he called Louis.

“I need you.” He whispered when Louis answered him with a tired hello.

Louis didn’t miss a beat. “I’ll be right over.”

Harry wasn’t sure how long it took Louis to make the drive over to his house. One minute he was curled into a ball on his bed, immobilized by agony and blinded by tears, and the next he was being herded into the shower, prodded along by a warm, unyielding voice. Harry showered as fast as he could, terrified that he might not be able to survive without that voice to tell him that everything would be okay. He jumped out of the shower, donned the pair of neatly folded sweatpants that Louis had left for him on the bathroom counter, and stumbled over to where Louis sat on his bed. He collapsed into Louis’s outspread arms and began to sob.

“Shhhh. It’s okay, Hazza. I’m here. Everything’s going to be okay.” Louis whispered in his ear as he rocked Harry back and forth.

He nodded.  _Everything is going to be okay._

He let Louis tuck him into bed, but captured one of Louis’s hands in his before he could pull away.

“Stay with me. Please. Just… please.” He whispered.

“I won’t go anywhere, Haz. I promise.” Louis said softly, giving his hand a tight squeeze.

Satisfied, Harry closed his eyes and focused on the warmth emanating from Louis’s hand. He pushed away all of the pain, all of the numbness, and focused on the only person in the world who he knew would never leave him.

_Louis._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review!!!


	4. Chapter 4: Louis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raven wrote this one. Hope you guys like it!

Louis sighed as Harry shifted in his sleep, burying his head in his pillow. He wouldn’t wake now, not even if Louis pulled his hand from his tight grip. And Louis was tired, so, so tired. He checked his watch. He would have to be awake in 5 hours to get the girls ready for school. He really, really needed to leave.

 

But there was something about Harry when he was like this. Something about the innocence in his eyes when he had obviously been crying. Something about his soft curls sprawled across his pillow like a halo around his head. Something about the moonlight spilling through the window that made his pale skin almost luminescent. Harry worked so hard to be attractive, spent hours dressing and styling his hair and choosing the best cologne. Louis wondered what he would do if he knew he was at his most disarmingly beautiful when he was like this – in a soft white shirt and sweatpants that rode low on his hips, hair messy and in his eyes, smelling like bubble bath and baby powder.

 

This was the Harry Zayn thought was a myth. This was the Harry who, at 6’1” was still dwarfed by his huge bed, curled into a ball and gripping Louis’s hand like it meant something. This was the Harry that was lonely and afraid and needy. And Louis wasn’t stupid. He had seen girls come and go from this room. He had watched Harry flirt and seduce. He saw what everyone else saw. But he had also seen 14-year-old Harry, pre-growth-spurt, with a layer of baby fat and a near-constant blush. He had seen Harry when he was 11 and his father stormed out with a suitcase. He had seen Harry pushed away and ignored. He had seen him in love a hundred different times, always completely and totally devoted, never thinking to hold a piece of himself back for sanity’s sake. He had seen the scars on his wrists the previous summer. He had seen him cry and fold in on himself and lean into the smallest of touches. Louis was the only person who had seen every version of Harry. And Harry Styles was beautiful, in many more ways than the women who used him knew.

 

Of course he was in love with Harry, How could he avoid it, knowing what he knew?

 

Harry mumbled in his sleep and Louis startled, rearranging his expression into indifference from what he was sure was a look that was entirely too fond to be platonic. His grip loosened on Louis’s hand, so Louis pulled away, smiling softly at the furrow in Harry’s brow that developed at the loss of human contact. He bent down, unable to stop himself, and brushed his lips against the 16-year-old’s forehead. Harry’s face relaxed, became smooth, and he smiled, his dimple showing for a brief second, even in his sleep.

 

Louis shook his head at the way his knees went weak. Then, he turned and left, closing Harry’s door softly behind him.

 

He drove his tiny Honda home and parked it on the street outside. Yawning, he crept up the stairs, checking on the twins, Fizz, and Lottie before peeking in on his mother, who would need to wake up in an hour or two for her next shift. She looked haggard, tired to the point of premature aging, even in sleep. He pulled the sheets to her chin and kissed her on the cheek.

 

Padding into his room, he was just grateful that everyone was safe, warm, and properly tucked in. Except for himself. His room was messy, and he tripped over a pair of scuffed Converse before flopping into bed, not even crawling under the covers before he started snoring.

 

No one checked on him. No one tucked him in.

 

#

 

Louis was exhausted the next day when Harry picked them up.

 

“Harrrrrryyyyyyyy, Louis is being a grumppppp,” Phoebe and Daisy chorused as the two were helping them into their car seats.

 

“He really, really is,” Fizz added.

 

“What they’re trying to say is Lou’s acting like something crawled up his arse and died,” Lottie added. Louis hit his head on the roof of the car. “Lottie! Language! Goddamnit.”

 

Harry laughed and winked at the girls. “Hold on, loves. I have this covered.” He walked to Louis’s side of the car and spread his arms open.

 

“Not now, Harry,” Louis growled. Harry just cocked an eyebrow. “Ugh. Fine.” He walked quickly to Harry and nuzzled into his neck, arms wrapped tightly around the younger boy’s ribcage. Harry pressed his smile into Louis’s hair and fisted his hands into the back of his shirt. They stood like that for several minutes, until both were melted-chocolate relaxed and warm. Louis pulled away, finally. His sisters were giggling in the car and he shook his head fondly, pulling a funny face.

 

They got into the SUV. “Sorry, guys,” Louis apologized. I just woke up on the wrong side of bed.

 

“Well maybe if Harry took that side, you’d get up on the right side more often,” Lottie teased, waggling her eyebrows.

 

Louis blushed, but Harry just chuckled, “I don’t know if your brother can handle me, ladies.” Louis just rolled his eyes. Harry was right, after all. He could barely handle Harry fully clothed and forbidden. His poor head would probably implode if Harry was _naked_ and _his_. He shuddered involuntarily and Harry looked at him with concern, turning the heat up. “Are you getting sick, Lou? You cold?”

 

Louis shrugged. “Maybe I have a fever. I’m a little overheated, actually.” Their hands brushed as they both reached for the heat dial and Louis tried to make it seem as though he didn’t want to jump out of his skin. Lottie’s knowing blue eyes met him in the rearview mirror. Louis groaned. He never should have taught that brat to wink.

 

#

 

This time, there was no breakdown. But Louis saw Harry’s breath hitch for just a second as he walked by his latest flame’s locker, so Louis covertly brushed a thumb against the small of the younger boy’s back. Harry leaned into the touch and flashed him a grateful smile.

 

But the next second, Harry’s every muscle tensed. Then again, so did Louis’s.

 

“Faggot!”

 

The two boys turned towards the voice quickly, surprised when they realized the painful word was not directed at them, or even at Zayn, but at a small, young-looking blonde boy. It didn’t matter to Harry, who immediately stomped toward the scene, stepping between the boy and his attacker.

 

“Brown,” Harry acknowledged with a nod. His voice was flat, and his eyes dark, but he rocked back on his heels and kept his hands in his pockets, as if he was relaxed.

 

Louis knew better and hurried to walk over, nudging at Harry’s foot with his own as he stood next to the blonde boy. “You okay?” he asked out of the corner of his mouth.

 

“Nothing new, is it?” the boy responded with an Irish accent. “What’s the Sundance Kid over here doing?”

 

“Challenging him to a duel over your reputation, of course.” Louis grinned and rolled his eyes. He already liked this one.

 

“I always thought more tumbleweeds would be involved. Niall, by the way.”

 

“Louis. And Captain America over there is Harry.”

 

“Harry had finished muttering in a quiet, dangerously calm voice to the bully and turned his back, swaggering over to the other two. “Hey mate. I’m Harry.”

 

“So I’ve heard,” Niall said, waggling his eyebrows. Harry laughed and Louis’s stomach clenched in all-too-familiar jealousy. He had thought he liked Niall, but found him suddenly annoying. “I’m Niall.”

 

Louis bumped Harry’s hip with his own ( _no, no, no pay attention to me you stupid git_ ). “So when’s the match?”

 

Harry grinned, all childish excitement. “Tonight. Liam’s going to be _pissed_. Wanna come?”

 

Louis never turned down a chance to watch Harry box, just like Harry never turned down the opportunity to kick a homophobic prick’s ass. But Liam, Harry’s boxing instructor was really going to be pissed, and Louis hated to leave the girls with Lottie in charge. “Chris needs to be taken down a peg or two,” Harry smirked, and just like that, Louis was going. Obviously. _Harry’s smirk should be outlawed_ , Louis thought.

 

“Well, thank you for fighting all our battles, Mr. White Knight,” Louis teased. Harry blushed under the praise and Louis shot a look at Niall that said in capitalized, italicized, underlined, and bolded font “ ** _MINE._** ” Niall smiled back knowingly, and Louis dropped his eyes.

 

“Make sure Zayn comes this time, Lou. Something tells me he’d love to meet Liam. Niall – you should come too. And sit with us at lunch. We’re the only blokes worth knowing at this school, anyway. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” Harry trailed off, walking towards a pretty redhead, who slowly looked him up and down as he approached.

 

Niall whistled through his teeth. “Ouch.”

 

Louis, still looking wistfully after Harry, barely hummed in response.

 

“So how long have you been in love with your straight best friend?”

 

Louis neck cracked at the speed with which he turned his head.

 

Niall giggled at the look on his face. “He doesn’t know, does he?”

 

Louis shook his head no, mouth still hanging open in shock.

 

“That’s rough, mate. We’ll work on it, yeah?”

 

Just like that, Louis decided Niall was going to be a permanent fixture in their group. “And what about you? What’s your type?”

 

“Well, you and Harry are both fit as all hell, but to be honest I prefer gingers. The whole ‘soulless’ thing just kind of does it for me, you know?” he trailed off and Louis was about to jump in with a “No mate I don’t know. Are you okay? Because you seem kind of fucking insane” when Niall’s jaw dropped. “Louis. Louis, what is _that_?” Niall weakly gestured.

 

“Oh,” Louis followed Niall’s drooping fingers. “That, my friend, is a Zayn.” Zayn was walking toward them, perfectly coiffed as usual. “I thought you said you were into gingers?”

 

“I am, I just…” he trailed off again as Zayn put more swing into his narrow hips

 

“It’s a little like looking directly into the sun, isn’t it?” Louis teased. Niall nodded blankly. “Don’t worry. It happens to everyone the first few times.”

 

“Zayn, Niall. Niall, Zayn,” Louis introduced the two as Zayn’s slow-motion, hair flipping, runway walk finally brought the boy within hearing distance. “Niall’s the newest member of our boyband.”

 

“Lou!” Zayn interrupted with a huff, “You know we can’t have a boyband with just three boys. Come off it.”

 

“Well,” Louis replied logically, “We have four now, including the Nialler here.”

 

Zayn shrugged. “Good point.” Niall’s blue-green eyes darted between the other two, following their strange banter.

 

“Now, Zayn. As part of the induction ritual, please recite the boybandandments.”

 

Zayn sighed. “Boybandandment number 1: Don’t talk about the boyband. Boybandandment number 2: Don’t talk about the boyband. Boybandandment number 3: Zayn is never, under any circumstances, ever, ever, ever allowed to shag any other member of the boyband. Boybandandment number 4: No eyeliner.” As he recited the fourth and most sacred of boybandandments, Zayn looked at the ground guiltily and rubbed at his eye.

 

“That’s what I thought.” Louis crossed his arms across his chest, looking at Zayn as sternly as possible.

 

“But do you see how it brings out the gold in my eyes?” Zayn shoved his face inches from Louis’s and widened his eyes comically. “DO YOU SEE? Niall here agrees with me, don’t you, mate?”

 

Niall came out of his daze for a brief second to grin blearily at the cause. Then he shook himself and responded, “I don’t know, lad. Ever hear of overkill?”

 

Zayn looked at Niall in shock, then exchanged glances with an equally surprised Louis.

 

“What?” Niall asked

 

Louis started to laugh, “It took me a good month before I could disagree with Zayn while looking directly at him. You, son, are a _legend_.”

 

Zayn looked panicked “I’m losing my touch. Shit. _Shit._ ” He walked away, his movements jerky.

 

Niall looked at Louis. “Is he going to be okay?”

 

Louis grinned. “Yeah, mate. I think it’s going to be good for him, having you around to deflate his ego.”

 

The two boys continued to chat like they had known each other for years until the ten-minute bell chimed, making them both jump.

 

“Oh! Room 203, this is me anyway,” Niall said, “See you at lunch?”

  
“‘Course,” Louis replied. He turned the other way to scurry to his class and ran into Harry.

 

“Replacing me, are you?” Harry teased. But his eyes were serious, and as usual, Louis knew exactly what he needed.

 

“Hey, hey. We’ve been best friends practically since birth. Niall’s nice, but he lacks the Dimples and the Curls.”

 

Harry smiled, practically purring. “So you won’t let him call you Boobear?”

 

Louis rolled his eyes, “Nope. Only you and Mum can call me that. Now get going! You’re going to make us both late for class.”

 

#

 

Zayn, Niall, and Louis drove to the gym together, bantering and bickering all the way. Niall was carefree and funny and just _happy_. He balanced out Zayn’s moodiness and Louis’s teasing and Harry’s self-deprecation, all the rough edges. It just felt _right_ , and all of them kept looking at each other like they had found a new home.

 

Harry was warming up when they walked in, already stripped down to a pair of shorts and sweaty.

 

“Well, I see why you like it here,” Zayn quipped sarcastically.

 

“Five quid says Lou only makes it ten minutes before he comes up with an excuse to touch his abs,” Niall replied.

 

“I’m going to give him eight,” Zayn responded from the corner of his mouth.

 

Louis may have rolled his eyes, but he only lasted two. He waited for a brief pause in Harry’s concentration, as he wiped his brow, and crept up behind him. “Young Harold!” he crowed, poking Harry in the sides, directly below his rib cage. Harry yelped, undignified, and Louis giggled. “Come on, wanker. Dukes up.” Louis started prancing around, bouncing on one foot and then the other and throwing quick jabs. Harry chuckled, but played along, bringing his arms up to shield from Louis’s punches. This devolved into tickling fingers, which somehow found their way to his abs and hips, and poking their way into his dimples.

 

Harry giggled, giddy and blushing. “Louuuuu! I’m trying to be a badass, here,” he whined.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Lou saw five pounds exchange hands and heard Niall’s quiet “Dammit, Lou. Have some self-control, will ya?”

 

Louis just laughed, a smile stretched across his face at the warm, sweaty boy-skin under his fingertips and the warmth of the two boys at his back. _This must be what it feels like_ , he thought, _to be young_.

 

Harry suddenly ducked down to place his lips near Louis’s ear. “Want to be my partner in crime, Boobear?” Louis nodded his head frantically and Harry laughed. “Watch this. In 3… 2… 1… action!”

 

“Who is _that_?” Zayn’s voice rang out on cue, far from his usual smooth, unaffected tone. Meaning he may or may not have… _squeaked_. Loudly. He quickly clasped his hands over his mouth and tried to duck behind Louis and Niall – a largely unsuccessful strategy, as they were both several inches shorter than him. Louis looked around, trying to find the cause of the alarm. “Fuck, fuck, fucking _shit_ he’s coming over here. I can’t breathe. Oh my god. _Fuck_ ,” murmured Zayn at an alarmingly high pitch and speed.

 

Louis looked around, still confused. The only person that was approaching them was Liam. _Ohhh_. He exchanged glances with Harry, who was already smirking mischievously. Liam was conventionally attractive, very sensible and all-American and puppyish. He was also extremely easy to fluster. This would be _fun_.

 

Liam walked directly over to Harry and glared, crossing his well-muscled arms. Zayn whimpered.

 

“So I hear you’re fighting another one?” Liam practically growled. Harry cowered, looking at his feet and shifting back and forth. For a second, he looked all of six years old and Louis couldn’t help it – he jumped to his defense.

 

“C’mon, Li!” he fluttered his eyelashes. “He was just defending our honor!”

 

“Lou, this is not the fourteenth century and you are _hardly_ a damsel in distress.”

 

To Louis’s shock and Harry’s amusement, Zayn stepped in front of the both of them, brushing close to Liam, whose eyes widened. “Are you saying we don’t deserve to be saved?” he asked quietly, almost vulnerably, looking up through his eyelashes. Liam swallowed, hard.

 

“That… that’s not what I meant.” He started to back away. “H, I’ll talk to you about this after the fight. Remember not to leave your left open when you’re throwing that right, okay?”

 

Harry nodded, and then turned to stare at Zayn, along with Louis and Niall.

 

“Really, Zayn??” asked Louis incredulously.

 

Zayn hardly paid attention, staring at Liam as he walked away. “I think I’m in love,” he breathed dreamily.

 

Harry winked at Louis while Zayn wasn’t looking and Louis hid his giggle behind a cough.

 

Chris walked in and Zayn and Niall walked to one of the benches against the wall to watch the show. Louis told them to save him a seat. They looked at him quizzically, but left him with Harry by the ring anyway.

 

Chris swaggered over to the two boys. “Hey, twink,” Louis flinched, “You promising to suck his dick after I beat the shit out of him? He’ll probably need to be comforted, don’t you think?” Louis closed in on himself immediately, wrapping his arms around his stomach. Harry threw an arm around him and squeezed his hip with one of his large hands.

 

“Sorry, Brown. Lou’s kind of out of my league. If you’re looking for a show, though, there are plenty of gay porn sites you can explore.” Louis laughed a little, pressing his side even closer to Harry’s.

 

“Fuck you, man. Let’s just get this over with,” the bully said arrogantly, walking to his corner of the ring.

 

“Ready, Harry?” Louis said gleefully, excited for their pre-fight tradition.

 

Harry smirked, “‘Course.”

 

“Promise me you’ll be careful?”

 

“Always am.”

 

“Okay, love. Go kick his arse.”

 

Harry cupped his hand around the nape of Louis’s neck and brought their faces close together, leaning his forehead on Louis’s. “It’s all for you, Lou. You know that right? All for you.”

 

Louis closed his eyes and smiled softly. “I know, Harry. Be safe.” Harry pulled back and Liam chucked him his gloves and mouth guard. Harry winked at Louis, then knocked his fists together to make sure his gloves were on properly and swaggered to the middle of the ring.

 

Louis wobbled over to his seat next to Zayn and Niall, knees weak.

 

“What the fuck was that?” Zayn asked Louis.

 

“That’s what he does before every fight.”

 

“You’re kidding,” Niall deadpanned.

 

“Nope,” Louis replied, still dazed.

 

“Jesus,” Niall breathed.

 

“You never stood a chance,” Zayn added.

 

“Nope,” Louis said again, his eyes following the only person who had ever been willing to fight for him. “I never stood a chance.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please review. Because we control Larry. And we wouldn't want anything to happen to either of our favorite boys, would we? MUAHAHAHAHAH


	5. Chapter 5: Harry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another Cody masterpiece -- all bow down to the sex that is his version of Harry Styles.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. 

Harry’s heart was pounding as he moved to his corner of the ring, the sound reverberating inside his head more rapidly than Zayn on mornings when he was having trouble locating his eyeliner before school (which, in case you didn’t know, was damn fast).

He spotted Liam, looking perpetually reproachful and supportive, standing outside the ring right behind his corner. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to take a deep breath. He couldn’t let Chris notice the fact that he was all but shaking. The bully would undoubtedly view that as a sign of weakness, a sign of being scared. In reality, it represented something entirely different: rage.

Harry turned around abruptly, his vision already going red as his eyes honed in on the boy in the corner across from him. Chris was almost of a height with Harry, and had more muscle mass to boot. But none of that mattered because Harry was going to win; he had to win. 

“Hey, twink.” This was the boy who had hurt Louis; this was the poor, fucking bastard who had caused Louis to retreat into himself, to hold himself as if he were about to break. 

And this was the person Harry was going to pulverize into little motes of homophobic dust because he had lost the right to call himself a human being.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

Harry didn’t hear the sound of the bell, but knew the match had started when Chris began to ease his way towards him, arms raised in a defensive position. He resisted the urge to survey the crowd before moving to meet Chris in the center of the ring, already knowing that, once again, his parents would not be there. 

He stopped a couple of feet from Chris, and the two boys began to circle one another. 

“You scared, Styles? No worries, I’m sure your boy toy out there will take great care of you after I beat you to a bloody pulp.” Chris tapped his gloves, bright red, together in what was unmistakably a mocking gesture.

Harry smiled. Didn’t the idiot know not to wear red when coming face to face with a bull? Let alone a really, really pissed off bull? 

Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

Chris rushed him, aiming two quick jabs at his abdomen. He stepped aside, easily deflecting the blows and landed one of his own in the bully’s side as he went stumbling past. Harry followed him, planting one more blow on Chris’s back before he could turn around and resume his defensive stance. Chris tried to ward him off with a few shots to his side, but Harry wasn’t having any of it. He continued to crowd Chris, rendering the punches that did connect weak from a lack of momentum. 

He faked left and attempted to run around Harry’s right side, trying to distance himself from his attacker. But Harry’s eyes, trained to notice his opponent’s slightest, most nuanced movements, knew where the boy was going even before he stepped right. He had him. 

Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. 

Harry landed a vicious right-handed punch to Chris’s stomach, and sent the large boy reeling backwards. He kept pace, raining blow after blow down upon him. 

Right jab to the abdomen. Thump, thump.

Left upper cut to the chin. Thump, thump. 

Right hook to the side of the head. Thump, thump.

Chris fell to the ground with a resounding crash, blood flowing freely from his nose and dribbling slowly out of the left corner of his mouth. In his peripheral, Harry saw Chris’s coach throw a red towel into the ring, signaling his surrender. 

No. Harry got down and straddled his opponent, sending punch after punch into his gut. 

“TWINK!” Left jab to the abdomen.

“TWINK!” Right jab to the abdomen.

“TWINK!” Another left jab to the abdomen.

It wasn’t until Liam was struggling to pull him off Chris that Harry realized he had been shouting and that Chris was no longer moving. 

“COME ON, STYLES!” Liam yelled, yanking him towards his corner of the ring. “The match is OVER!”

Suddenly, he felt a pair of cool hands work their way around his waist. “Come on, Hazza. It’s over, the match is over.” He leaned back into Louis’s arms, letting his soft voice wind its way throughout his body, chasing out the rage.

“O-over?” Harry muttered, not quite comprehending. “Yes, Hazza, over. You won the match, and now it’s time for you to come back to me, okay? Can you do that?” Louis’s voice was barely a whisper. 

He closed his eyes and nodded, relaxing as that warm voice wound its way around his heart. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’m back.” He said.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

#

Liam looked less stern than Harry thought he would, given what had just happened in the ring. If anything, his trainer looked sad. 

“Harry…” he said, his voice disapproving but filled with compassion and concern nonetheless. “You can’t keep doing this. I mean, I know why you do it. And I get it, I really do, it’s just… Harry…” He watched as Liam ran both of his hands through his hair, probably fighting the urge to rip it all out. 

“I know, Li. Okay? You can spare me the lecture. I know I shouldn’t have let him get to me and I know that he isn’t worth it. I do. But did you hear what he said to Louis? He… he…” Liam crossed the room and put his hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“He’s really important to you, huh? Louis, I mean?” He asked softly.

Harry couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah. Yeah, he is. He’s my best friend and I’d honestly do anything for him, even if that entails putting some dickhead bully in his proper place.” 

“Right. He’s just your friend, your best friend.” Liam patted him on the back and then padded his way to his locker and began to strip out of his gym clothes.

His brow furrowed. What was that look Liam just had on his face? Was he sad? Worried? Still upset about the match? Was it something he had said? Harry shook his head.

“So, what’d you think of Zayn?” Harry asked, clad in nothing but a navy blue towel, after he and Liam had both showered. 

“He’s umm… well… he’s, uh, he’s very nice.” Liam, donning a white towel, stammered. A faint blush began to creep its way up his neck. “Why?”

“Oh, no reason.” Harry said innocently. He may or may not have fluttered his eyelashes teasingly a couple, or maybe a hundred, times. 

“Did he… did he say something about me?” His trainer was all but choking on his words.

His mouth broke out into a wide grin. Zayn is going to kill me for this. 

“Only that he was hoping you could give him boxing lessons. He’s been interested in taking up the sport for years, but just hasn’t gotten around to it. If you’re free, he said he’d be willing to start as soon as possible. Next week some time? Or maybe tomorrow?” Liam was so startled by the question that he forgot to keep a grip on his towel, which promptly fell to a heap at his feet. 

Liam turned around quickly and opened his locker. “Oh. Well, my schedule’s pretty booked. But, I might be able to squeeze him in tomorrow.”   
CRACK. Harry transformed his own towel into a whip, snapping it against his trainer’s exposed buttocks. 

“Great, I’ll tell him to meet you here after school.” Harry said with a loud laugh that almost drowned out Liam’s utterly undignified yelp. Almost. He dressed quickly, grabbed his stuff, and made his way out of the locker room before Liam could put his thoughts back in order long enough to realize that he should probably retaliate.

He found Louis standing with Zayn and Niall in the now empty gym. “Hey, guys.” He said, pulling Louis into a massive bear hug before turning to the other two boys.

“Hey, mate. Nice match.” Niall said, extending his fist. Harry bumped it with his own, eliciting an exaggerated eye roll from Louis and a cough that sounded strangely like the words “straight boys” from Zayn. He grinned.

“So, Zayn. Have any interest in boxing?” Harry asked, earning stunned glances from the trio of boy surrounding him. 

“Why do you ask?” Zayn questioned, lifting one eyebrow into a perfect arch. Not. Freaking. Human.

“Because you have a boxing lesson with Liam tomorrow after school. Don’t be late, not even fashionably, because Liam is all about punctuality.” 

The wide-eyed, panic-stricken, shit I’m a deer caught in headlights in the middle of the road and I’m about to get run over by a moving lorry, expression that followed was enough to reduce Louis, Niall, and Harry to a puddle of giggling idiots on the floor. 

Zayn still hadn’t composed himself when a slim, red-haired girl nervously shuffled towards Harry. “Good match…” She said in a voice so quiet that at first nobody realized someone had spoken. 

Harry scrambled to his feet, a smile already plastered in place. “Thanks. I’m Harry.” He said, extending his hand towards her.

“I’m Meredith,” she said, shaking his hand awkwardly. “I’m in your Spanish class, but I sit in the back so you probably don’t recognize me.”

He stepped closer and lifted her chin upwards with one finger, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Of course I recognize you. You’re the girl with the brilliant Spanish accent.”

She blushed. “Y-you really think so?”

He nodded. “I do, and I think that you’re going to have to help me with mine over dinner. Say tonight at exactly now o’clockish?”   
Meredith stared up at him, dazed, and nodded. 

“Well, okay then. Let’s get going.” He turned and gave Louis, now standing, a quick hug, his hands lingering a little longer than they should have as he pulled away.   
“I’ll see you all tomorrow, yeah?” He asked, grinning.

Louis stared back at him with lifeless eyes, his face completely devoid of the happiness that had been there just seconds before. Zayn glared at him, his hand propped on his hips. Surprisingly, it was Niall who responded.

“Yeah, mate. We’ll see you tomorrow.” He said, waving Harry away and clapping Louis on the back. “So, my favorite femme fatale, who’s up for Nando’s?” Niall steered Zayn and Louis towards the exit.

Harry frowned. Are they really that upset about me getting Zayn boxing lessons? I’ll have to call Louis later and make sure he’s alright. 

“Everything okay?” Meredith asked, her voice filled with concern.

“Yep!” Harry spun back around to face her. “Todo esta bien.” He wiggled his eyebrows. 

“Wow, we really do need to work on your accent!” Her laughter filled the air as he led her out of the gym.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! See you next Sunday. And please, don't be shy. You can find us on tumblr at onedirectionrody.tumblr.com -- come be our friend!


	6. Chapter 6: Louis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another of Raven's chapters!

Chapter 6: Louis

Louis was dead on his feet by the time he deposited Fizz and Lottie on the bleachers with some baby carrots and ranch dressing and carried the squealing twins onto the grassy field by the backs of their jerseys. There, a group of 6 other rough-housing 4-year-olds chased each other in miniature cleats.

“Alright, mates,” Louis yelled in his best “Coach Lou” voice, “line up, line up. Penalty line. Let’s go!” The kids stood at attention along the line. “Heads!” The kids slapped sticky fingers to their hair. “Shoulders!” They giggled at the percussive sound of 16 hands hitting shoulders padded in baby fat. “Knees!” They bent over, hands on their knees. Louis pretended to walk away.

“Coachhhhh,” the children groaned together, giggling.

“Did I forget something?”

“Yesssss,” they whined.

“What did I forget?”

“Toes!”

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”

“TOES!!”

“Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

Louis mostly watched his sisters and their friends chase each other around the field. He kicked a ball into the mix every once in awhile, but they ignored it for the most part. He walked over every 10 minutes or so to check that his other two sisters were doing homework, helping with a math problem or a difficult word every now and then.

At 6, he loaded his sisters in to the car, waved at all the parents of the other children, and brought Lottie to ballet and Fizz to piano. He rushed back home, put the twins in front of some strange television show for kids (shit had gotten weird post-Scooby-Doo, he thought) and ordered pizza, straightening the kitchen from their cereal that morning. Then, he packed the girls’ lunches for the next day, got back into the car, picked his other sisters up, stopped at the pizzeria for the pizzas, got home again, popped in a Disney movie, ran upstairs to bathe his two youngest sisters while the two older ones watched _The Lion King_ , made them shower while he braided Daisy and Phoebe’s hair, read them a story, read the next chapter of _Harry Potter_  with Fizz, and then talked to Lottie about Alexander the Great for a half an hour. At some point, his mother wandered in, brushing kisses on all of their foreheads and almost stumbling to her bedroom. (Louis’s brow creased. He hated how overworked and tired she was. He wished he could take on a job, but then who would take care of his girls? His shoulders sagged.) Finally it was 10 o’clock and his sisters were all sleeping soundly.

Louis got his homework out, spreading his math book and notebook across the kitchen table. Within a half an hour, his eyes were drooping. Before he knew it, he was fast asleep, cheek pillowed on his forearm.

At 1 AM, his phone rang. Louis sat up suddenly, eyes bleary, light headed and disoriented. It took several grabs before his (squirmy, he’d swear it) phone was finally in his hand.

“‘Lo?” he answered. He knew, honestly, who it was. No one else ever called this late.

“L-l-lou?” Harry’s voice cracked, and Louis could tell he was crying. “P-p-please.”

“I’ll be there in a few,” Louis replied. He jumped up from the table, shoving books haphazardly in his bag and setting it on the chair. He’d do homework before class the next day. He grabbed his keys and ran to the car. On the drive over, Louis caught himself smiling. He quickly bit his lip.

It wasn’t that he liked these times. He hated seeing Harry cry, hated surreptitiously inspecting Harry’s wrists for cuts. He hated the dull pain Harry kept under his skin. But, in the back of his mind, where he kept the things he’d never, ever admit to, Louis knew there were some things he loved about these nights.

He loved Harry obviously, loved knowing that he was the only one Harry let see him like this, completely vulnerable, skin so thin it was nearly translucent. He loved the smell of fabric softener on the clothes Louis always folded neatly and left on the bathroom sink for Harry during his shower. He loved Harry’s big hands wrapped around his small ones, holding onto him even when Harry was asleep.

And, Jesus, Harry asleep was a thing of beauty. His cheeks flushed, that obscene mouth pursed and soft, damp curls falling onto the smooth skin of his forehead, tattoos barely peeking from white sheets. Louis knew he would never tire of watching Harry sleep.

Louis pulled into the long driveway, up to the five-car garage. It was empty except for Harry’s Range Rover, but Louis pulled up directly alongside it, anyway. It looked lonely by itself.

He charged through the dark house, not bothering to turn lights on – he knew every inch of the who-knows-how-many square feet by heart anyway.

He found Harry on the floor of his bathroom, shivering against the cold marble. Immediately, Louis was holding him, pulling as much of the larger boy as he could into his lap.

“Shhh, shh, shhh, baby. It’s okay, it’s okay, love. I’m here, shh,” he murmured into Harry’s hair. Louis was always tempted at this point to just tell him, say “I love you I love you I love you” until Harry couldn’t feel unlovable ever again.

But that was too much of a risk. So Louis just held Harry, trying not to kiss his tears away, something squeezing his chest until he could hardly breathe. Harry finally came out of his catatonic state and threw his arms around Louis, pressing his face into his neck, wiping his nose on Louis’s shoulder, wrapping his legs around Harry’s waist. He was almost like a large, wriggling puppy sometimes.

“Shh, love. I’ve got you,” he whispered.

“She left, Lou. Said I was a… a good fuck, but I wasn’t _worth_ more.”

“She was wrong, sweetheart. Love, you are wonderful and beautiful and you are worth everything. It’s okay, love. Don’t listen to her, okay?”

“They’re not wrong, Lou. Just statistically. They can’t _all_  be wrong.”

“I’m not a genius, nothing like you, babe,” Louis said tenderly, “But I know for a fact that they’re wrong.” Harry started to shake his head, so Louis trapped it between his hands. “No. Harry, look at me. They. Are. Wrong.” Harry nodded, silent tears still slipping down his face. “Now you’re going to go take a nice, hot shower, and I’ll make us some tea, okay?”

Harry nodded again, just like he always did. Louis always explained what he was going to do, as if they didn’t have a routine worked out.

Harry walked into the bathroom, leaving the door open the way he always did. Louis was careful, very, very careful to not listen to the sound of the sheet he had been wrapped in hitting the floor. He was very careful not to read the sound of the shower running as an invitation.

He ran downstairs, put the kettle on, and stopped at the linen closet for some new sheets and a towel. He stripped the old sheets off, wrinkling his nose at the smell of cheap perfume and sex. He threw them down the laundry chute. Then, he took the towel and Harry’s softest pair of grey sweats into the bathroom, leaving them on the sink and making a concerted effort not to watch Harry’s silhouette moving behind the frosted glass. The kettle whistled downstairs and Louis jumped.

Sometimes, his best effort wasn’t enough.

He heard the glass door slide open behind him, and had to force himself to walk slowly and naturally down the stairs to the kitchen, where he poured two cups of tea – Harry’s with enough sugar to rot his teeth and Louis’s straight thank-you-very-much. He carried them carefully to Harry’s room, reaching the bed at the same time as Harry.

“Now, sit down and drink your tea, love.” Harry obediently plopped onto the bed and wrapped his enormous hands around the warm mug.

“Thanks, Lou,” Harry almost whispered, eyes firmly on his crossed legs.

“Hey, hey. None of that,” Louis responded, brushing Harry’s hair back from where it had fallen forward. “Always, always call me when you need me, okay?”

“Forever?” Harry asked. His voice was small. Louis knew he was really asking Louis when he was going to leave.

“Forever.” Louis responded forcefully. Harry nodded. Louis knew he didn’t believe it yet, but he didn’t press. It was nearly 2 AM and they both desperately needed sleep.

“Can you stay?” Harry asked, just as he did every time, “just until I fall asleep?”

“Of course, love,” Louis said, already pulling Harry’s desk chair to the side of the bed. Harry made a noise that was equal parts imploring and demanding and gripped Louis’s hand. He squirmed to get under the blankets, refusing to let go for even one second. Nearly the moment that his head touched the pillow, he was asleep. Louis meant to stay only a few minutes more, just long enough to memorize the graceful fall of Harry’s eyelashes against the milky skin of his cheek, but the exhaustion of his day settled onto his head, which fell forward with the weight.

The last thing Louis remembered was a close-up view of Harry’s pale skin, and the slightly raised words “Things I can,” as if they were directly below his face. Louis almost giggled. _That would be silly_  and promptly fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be nice and review! You never know when Harry, Louis, or the other boys might decide to answer, themselves...


	7. Chapter 7: Harry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Cody chapter! (I swear my chapters are just here to make his look better!)

Harry woke to what could only be a very undignified animal attempting to claw its way out of his arms.

 

“Leggo!” Even panicked, Louis’s sleep-ridden voice was warm and demanding. Harry tightened his hold on the smaller boy and burrowed his head into the side of his neck. He smelled  _good._

 

“No.” Harry said in a low, lazy voice. He smiled into Louis’s neck, clearly just trying to get himself into trouble now.

 

“ _No? NO?_  It’s already morning and I’m not home. God knows my sisters will have burned the house down by the time I get there. I mean, who’s going to get the twins ready for school? They may look small and adorable, but they’re little  _monsters_.  _Monsters,_  I tell you; you turn your back for one second and BAM, the house is aflame and the outfits you skillfully selected for them are tattered and stained. AND OH MY GOD WHAT IF ALEXANDER THE GREAT STAYED OVER LAST NIGHT? MY LITTLE SISTER IS PREGNANT AND IT’S ALL MY FAULT… and… and…”

 

Harry reached around and covered Louis’s mouth (well, his whole face really) with one large hand and did his best not to dissolve into a fit of laughter.

 

“Boobear…” he started, his voice strained. “Three things: A. It’s Saturday, so you don’t have to get anyone ready for school. Two, it’s Saturday, so those terrible twins of yours are probably so enraptured by their morning cartoons that they forgot all about their inherently demonic nature and did not, in fact, set your house on fire. And C3PO, Lottie is  _eleven_. Not only is it impossible for her to get pregnant, but she probably thinks that Alexander the Great still has cooties.” Harry could feel Louis relax as he finished.

 

“R-right.” His face felt suddenly hot beneath Harry’s palm. “But I should still get home. ASAP. If those girls aren’t fed soon it’s going to be World War III and, honestly, I’d place my money on them no matter who they went up against.” This time he succeeded in breaking free of Harry’s bear hug and quickly strode to the other side of the room.

 

“How does my hair look?” Louis asked, his face flushed and his gaze fixed on the floor.

“ _DAMMIT_.” Harry lost all of his resolve and was overcome by laughter.

 

In actuality, his best friend’s hair didn’t look  _too_  bad. Granted, it was sticking up in so many different directions that one could reasonably mistake the top of his head for a dead porcupine… but somehow Harry thought Louis still looked good despite that. Maybe Zayn wasn’t the only one who wasn’t entirely human.

 

He jumped out of bed, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Harry strode to his dresser and rummaged through the contents of the top drawer for a few seconds before finding what he was looking for. A slow grin spread across his face as he rushed Louis and forced his favorite beanie, often referred to as the beanie of dreams (at least in his mind), onto the smaller boy’s head.

 

“There.” Harry said after overcoming Louis’s loud and numerous protests. Somehow, the beanie successfully managed to hide all of the unfortunate porcupine’s quills and the only hair that showed was Louis’s bangs, which looked stylishly messy.

 

“The beanie of dreams.” Harry said in a low whisper.

 

Louis rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Hazza. Now I really have to go; the girls need me.” Was that an impatient foot tap Harry saw?

 

“One sec, Lou. Let me just grab a shirt.” Harry said, and returned from his dresser a minute later wearing a black tee. “Okay, let’s go.”

 

“I don’t remember extending you an invitation to this morning’s breakfast extravaganza, Styles.” Yes, his best friend’s hands were most definitely on his hips.

 

“Stale cereal and burnt toast hardly constitute a breakfast extravaganza.” Harry retorted. “Now, if it pleases your majesty, we should really go and feed those poor, starving girls. I have an excellent meal planned.”

#

As far as Harry was concerned breakfast was, as promised, excellent. He broke up and placed the savory bacon that he had made on the scrambled eggs in such a way as to make it look as if each of them had tiny, smiling faces. When presented with their grinning meals, the girls all squealed in delight and any annoyance that they had felt at Louis’s late return instantly disappeared.

 

“We really ought to keep this one around, Lou.” Lottie said between bites. The twins nodded, but were too busy attempting to shove as much food into their little mouths as was humanly possible to actually vocalize their agreement.

 

Louis giggled. “Yeah, I guess he isn’t so bad. And this does beat cereal…” He trailed off as Harry placed his own plate down in front of him.

 

“Or… not.” Louis choked. His eggs had been cut into little hearts adorned with tiny bacon arrows.

 

“Eat up, Boobear!” Harry said, clapping Louis on the back. The room was suddenly filled with the sound of laughter as Harry, the four girls, and Louis (despite his attempts to look stern) succumbed to uncontrollable giggles.

 

“Alright, girls” Harry said after the laughter subsided, “I have to go get ready for my lessons with Liam and I need you to make sure his majesty here actually finishes his breakfast. I don’t care if he says he isn’t hungry, it’s your job to make sure that he eats every last bite. You have my permission to do whatever it takes. Can you do that for Uncle Harry?”

 

“Okay!” The girls chirped in harmony. They proceeded to send their affronted big brother innocent, wide-eyed looks that Harry didn’t believe were sincere for even a second.  _Good._

 

“Well, okay then.” He patted each of the twins on the head affectionately before bending down to whisper in Louis’s ear. “And you better eat it all, Tomlinson.  _Or. Else._ ” He nipped Louis’s ear with his teeth (earning the desired yelp), and moved towards the door.

 

“I’ll see you later, everyone.”

#

He was so used to having the house to himself that he almost didn’t see his mother sitting at the dining room table as he made his way to his room.

 

“Mom?” Harry said, stumbling to a halt. “What are you doing home?”

 

“My lunch date got canceled.” The thin brunette clad in a red cocktail dress said with a wave of her hand. She was too busy making the aforementioned changes to her schedule to look up from her day planner.

 

“Does that mean you’re home for the day, then?” Harry’s eyes brightened. “I have boxing lessons later, but I can cancel them and spend the day with you instead…”

 

“You box?” His mother said with another dismissive wave of the hand. “Now, if I push back my dinner with the Sheffer’s by an hour I can squeeze in a late lunch with the prime minister’s daughter. Yes!” She jumped to her feet, her iPhone already at her ear, and almost ran Harry over in her haste to get to the door. The sound of her heels clacking against the linoleum was the last thing he heard before the familiar silence took hold of the house.

 

“Oh…” Harry’s shoulders slumped. “Okay, mom. Well, it was nice talking to you.” He said to the now empty dining room chair. His eyes stung.

 

He wiped away the tears and pulled out his phone, his fingers already dialing his sister’s number. The phone rang twice before going to voicemail, indicating that Gemma, once again, was ignoring his calls. He didn’t bother to leave a message.

 

Harry’s body felt excruciatingly heavy. It was all that he could do to make his way, step by slow step, towards the front door. “Dammit.”

 

Even his thoughts were sluggish. He stood, motionless, staring at his phone for ten minutes before he remembered that he needed to text Liam.  _Not feeling well. Won’t make it to practice. Sorry._ After sending the text, he shut off his phone. “Dammit.”

 

 _What do I do?_  Harry felt the familiar sadness in his gut. He knew that unless he did something, and did something soon, that the sadness would grow. It would spread its hopeless tendrils, weaving its way throughout the entirety of his body. Then, almost instantaneously, the sadness would transform into unbearable pain, reducing him to a pathetic heap of flesh on the floor. “Dammit.”

 

Harry didn’t even realize that he had been muttering to himself as he left the house and drove to the nearest bar.

#

The next thing Harry knew, a skinny black-haired girl with a butterfly tattoo on the small of her back was scrambling around his room looking for her clothes. He struggled to remember her name, but his memory of the past few hours was fuzzy at best. The girl was saying something now, but all Harry heard was a dull buzzing that didn’t resemble English in the slightest. This time, he didn’t bother to ask her to stay.

 

After she left, he leaned over the side of his bed and fumbled for his phone. That proved to be a horrible idea, however; the sudden motion made him so dizzy that he vomited all over the pile of discarded clothes beside his bed.

 _How much did I drink?_  He was so far gone that he couldn’t even remember what the bar looked like. Desperate, he searched the vomit ridden heap until he found his cell. He clumsily dialed the familiar number, the pain already beginning to build in his gut.

 

“Louissssssssssss!” He shouted when the other boy picked up the phone, his speech slurred. “I neeeed… I need. She LEEEFT ME.”

 

“I’m coming.” The panic in the other boy’s voice was easily detectable.

 

When Louis came rushing into his room, Harry was curled into a ball on his bed, the front of his shirt stained with vomit. He rocked back and forth, racked by uncontrollable sobs interspersed with bouts of wild laughter.

 

“Oh, Hazza.” Louis said, immediately pulling the stained shirt from his head. “I’m here, I’m here now. It’s okay.”

 

Louis ran out of the room, but quickly returned, trash bag and a can of air freshener in tow. He placed everything that had been touched by vomit into the bag, and then put the bag in the bathroom so that Harry could deal with it tomorrow. Next, he viciously attacked the vomit stains in the plush carpet with the air freshener, not relenting until the can was empty and the room smelled marginally better.

 

When he finished vomit proofing the room, he sat in the chair beside Harry’s bed and captured the larger boy’s hand in his.

 

“Alright, Hazza. I’m here. I’ve got you, you can go to sleep now.” He moved his thumb in soothing circles against the back of Harry’s hand.

 

“N-noooo. Closer.” Harry demanded, and pulled at Louis’s hand until he fell into the bed. His arms instantly wrapped around Louis, pulling him flush against his bare chest.

 

“Better.” He muttered, his eyes already drooping.

 

“Harry… I-I can’t. You have to let go, okay. You just… let go. Please.” But his meager protests proved futile; Harry was already snoring.

 

“Dammit.” Louis whispered before hesitantly snuggling up against Harry’s warm frame, closing his eyes, and drifting off to sleep himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're always up for character asks!


	8. Louis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: Sorry to bother you guys, but I figured you'd like to know that Cody and I are rewarding your lovely reviews with a present! There's a new oneshot up on AO3 called "Yours." It's not in this 'verse, but there is smut ;)
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/747985

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Raven's work! Prepare -- there's a bit of Zayn POV :)

Chapter 8

This was not his bed. Louis knew immediately upon waking, that it was both too big and too small, that his arm, outstretched could not reach the edge, but also that he was too tangled in  _something_  to move.

Then, he realized that his cheek was pillowed on something that was both soft and hard at the same time. It felt almost like skin stretched over muscle and bone.

Suddenly, Louis was wide awake. He tensed as a low, rumbling laugh echoed under his ear. He sat up suddenly, hitting his head on a strong, sharp jaw, and jerking his legs, which were tangled with another, much longer pair.

“Morning, Lou,” Harry said, his voice hoarse and low. Because that’s who was in bed with him. Of course it was. He remembered now, remembered Harry’s tears and inconsolability and the way he pleaded with Louis to stay.

“What time is it?” Louis said, rubbing at his eyes frantically to get any gunk out and running his hands through his hair, trying to pat and prod his bed head away.

“‘S early, Lou. Come backkk,” Harry whined, making grabby hands in his direction. Louis crawled back into the crook of Harry’s arm tentatively. Harry rolled on his side and nuzzled his nose into Louis’s hair, wrapping his other arm around the older boy.

“Harry, what time is it?”

“5:30. I set the alarm for 6 – we still have a half an hour. You smell good,” he added as if it were an afterthought. Louis blushed and Harry giggled, “I can feel you blushing through your skin,” he said as if in awe, "your cheeks get warm." He brushed his lips against his cheek, and left them there, falling asleep again that way.

Louis did not fall back asleep. Harry didn’t seem to think any of this was strange, but Louis knew that best mates didn’t act like this. Maybe… maybe… but no. Harry was  _straight_ , and Louis was like a teddy bear he had toted around since birth – a source of comfort, nothing more, right? Harry smiled in his sleep, and Louis felt it against his cheek, which tingled almost painfully. Right.

When the alarm finally went off, they reluctantly separated. Harry stretched luxuriously, all long lean muscle and “Might as well…” ink on his hip, and Louis had to remind himself to breathe evenly. They got out of bed and Harry threw Louis a pair of jeans, which he had to roll several times, a pair of shoes Louis needed extra socks to keep on his feet, and a Rolling Stones t-shirt.

They got to Louis’s house at around 6:30, but Louis kept thinking it felt much later. He had never felt so well-rested on so few hours of sleep. He woke his sisters up and Harry wordlessly began cooking breakfast again. The twins asked Louis if it was someone’s birthday when they walked into the room and saw piles of pancakes, bacon, and eggs. Lottie kept throwing him meaningful glances and Louis rolled his eyes at her when he received a text.

_ARE YOU WEARING HIS CLOTHES?!!_

She raised her eyebrows at him and he shook his head quickly  _Nothing has changed, please don’t say anything, nothing has changed_. She got the message and her face fell in sympathy. Louis shrugged.  _I’ll take what I can get._  And she nodded.

Louis walked into school to more fanfare. Zayn took one look at his well-rested eyes, big smile, and too-large wardrobe and tugged him from Harry’s side into the bathroom. Harry tried to follow, but Zayn shrieked “NO. THIS IS GIRL TALK TIME.” And Harry laughed so hard and loud, he shocked himself and clapped his hands over his mouth, trying to muffle the noise. Niall walked over and clapped him on the shoulder, talking to him about the most recent Man U game, shooting a look at Zayn that Louis concluded meant  _you will be giving me details later._

“What the fuck, Lou?” Zayn said, shoving him into the handicapped stall.

“You know, we really shouldn’t talk in this stall. What if someone in a wheelchair needs it? It’s just bad form, really.”

Zayn just tapped his foot impatiently.

“Okay, so I went to take care of Harry last night…”

Zayn cut him off, “Lou! You need to stop doing that!”

“Do you want to hear this or not?” Zayn made a show of zipping his lips. “Anyway. I went to take care of Harry last night and I went to leave but he begged me to stay and then he pulled me into bed with him and we fell asleep. But then we woke up this morning and we were cuddling and Harry fell back asleep kissing me on the cheek and then we got up and Harry gave me his clothes to wear and then he cooked my sisters and I breakfast and … and …” he wordlessly hugged Zayn, hard.

“Whoa, whoa, watch it. I don’t want Harry getting jealous and beating the shit out of me.” Louis rolled his eyes.

“I don’t think Harry would get jealous like that.”

“Really, Lou? Really? God, if you two were just honest with each other, you could be fucking and some of this sexual tension would be released."

“Harry is straight, Zayn. We both know better. And  _as if_  you can talk about honesty. You’ve been pretending to be interested in boxing, just so you have something to talk to Liam about.”

“Pshhh I could totally be a boxer. And I used to think Harry was completely straight. But he looks at you like… like…”

"Girl time’s up, boys,” Harry hammered his fist against the bathroom door, “I need my Lou.”

The two boys looked at each other, “Like… that.” Louis beamed.

Louis walked out and Harry immediately pulled him into a tight hug, picking him up and spinning him around.

“What was that for?”

“I just missed you, is all. Plus, you’ve been hugging Zayn. Had to make sure you smelled like me again. I can’t have you stinking like Gucci Guilty in my clothes.” Zayn mouthed  _JEALOUS_  at Louis, who blushed. “Ahh, there’s my blush again.” He rubbed a thumb along the bright red. “Want to walk to first period with me?”

Louis grinned, “Well that would be quite princely of you.”

Harry rolled his eyes “Practically Disney, aren’t I?”

Louis hummed in response and Harry threw his arm around Louis’s shoulders, pulling him in close and digging his thumb into the dip above Louis’s collarbone.

ZPOV

Zayn groaned, watching his two friends walk away. Niall walked over, nudging his arm. “So what’s going on there?”

“A hell of a lot of heartbreak. Or a hell of a lot of denial. Maybe both.”

“Do you ever just want to lock them in a small closet, naked?” Niall asked.

“Harry’s already closeted enough, don’t you think?” Zayn quipped.

“Speaking of, how’s your boxing instructor?” Niall waggled his eyebrows.

“Not mine,” Zayn sighed, “Or closeted.”

“Wait, he’s gay?” Niall asked, surprised.

Zayn sighed heavily. “Yep.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“It would be if he wanted me,” Zayn said, “But he doesn’t. It’s  _embarrassing_. I practically throw myself at him and he just walks away.”

“It can’t be  _that_  bad.”

“Oh believe me. It is.”

#

Zayn was almost starting to dread his boxing lessons. They were taking over his life. They were all he ever thought about. And all they ever resulted in was embarrassment. But he couldn’t stay away from brown eyes and warm smiles and,  _shit_ , he kept forgetting to mention his abs because he was too busy trying to understand how his mind  _worked_. And he hadn’t gotten laid in  _weeks_  because he just wasn’t interested in empty-headed boys at clubs anymore.

He walked into the locker room and changed, pulled his gloves on (Jesus did he  _hate_  boxing) and walked out to Liam, who was just finishing up with a kid who was probably 10, still scrawny and awkward.

“Nate, that’s it for today,” Liam said, “You’re getting really good at this, mate.”

“You think?”

“Absolutely. Pretty soon you’re going to beat  _me_!” Nate grinned hugely and Liam patted him on the back before turning to Zayn.

“Now why aren’t you that nice to me?” Liam rolled his eyes.

“Because that kid didn’t offer to blow me in the locker room last week,” he answered shortly.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” Zayn shrugged unapologetically.

“We’re going to work on your footwork today,” Liam ignored Zayn’s lascivious grin. “There are several patterns you need to memorize. The first is right forward, left back. Liam showed Zayn the stance, which Zayn tried to imitate, half-heartedly.

“Like this?” Liam sighed. “No, no. Like this. He closed his hands over Zayn’s hips and prodded them into the right position. Zayn closed his eyes at the sensation, Liam’s breath warm on the back of his neck.

Liam’s voice was strained and quiet. “Now bring your right foot back and to the side and bring your left foot forward." Liam guided Zayn’s feet with his own.

“This is almost like dancing,” Zayn said quietly.

“Yeah,” breathed Liam.

“I bet you’re a good dancer.”

“Nah,” Liam laughed, “I’m complete shit at it, actually.”

“It’s all in the hips,” Zayn said lowly, grinding his hips back.

In the next second, Liam was across the room. “I think you should go now.”

Zayn groaned in frustration, “What the fuck is your problem? I thought you didn’t want me, but you do, don’t you?”

Liam tugged at the ends of his hair, “No I don’t.”

“Lie to yourself all you want, but your body apparently isn’t in on it.” He looked pointedly at the no-longer loose shorts the other boy was wearing.

“Leave.”

“WHY?” This was rapidly devolving into a screaming match.

“Because you make me insane!” Liam growled.

“Well, staying away from you makes  _me_  insane.”

Liam started pacing like a caged animal on the other side of the room, but Zayn decided to be brave and approached anyway.

He reached out and let his hand stroke along one of Liam’s arms. Liam’s feet stuttered to a stop, and he leaned into the touch, eyes closed.

“Why won’t you let me…” Zayn trailed off, not sure if it was a good idea to finish that question. Liam waited, and Zayn could have sworn he had stopped breathing.

But Zayn couldn’t, wouldn’t say the words his brain was screaming: “Why won’t you let me make you smile at 3 AM and make you tea just the way you like it and sing you lullabies and ask you to go steady and wear my stupidly expensive leather jacket and kiss you on the forehead and get you chocolate for Valentine’s Day." Because Zayn Malik didn’t say those things, not ever.

Liam only waited so long, and Zayn read something like disappointment in his posture as he stormed off to his office, throwing “Because you don’t even know how to finish that question” over his shoulder.

Zayn wondered how much he knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hoped you liked it! Please feel free to send us some character asks


	9. Harry/Ed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're not even sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cody wrote this -- our longest chapter yet! (You're welcome)

Harry couldn’t keep his hands off of Louis. It was as if over the past few days his best friend had completely invaded his mind, body, and senses, his touch an addictive substance that Harry could only go without for a few minutes (on  _good_  days) before he began to suffer from unbearable withdrawal.

He wasn’t sure why, but where everything else had failed, Louis made him feel  _good_ , feel  _complete_.  On his worst days (usually those in which his family seemed to be present to remind him how un-invested they were in his life), Louis kept the pain at bay. One touch, however slight, from his best friend's ridiculously soft skin, smelling faintly of vanilla, flooded him with warmth and heightened his senses, whereas before they would have been blunted by numbness and despair. But it was more than this, Louis did more than make his life  _bearable_ , he made his life  _better_. On good days, touching Louis transformed his own happiness into pure bliss. He walked with a bounce in his step that, despite his best efforts, he couldn’t suppress (even though he was sure it made it look as if he were hopping down the hallways at schools like a rabbit on  _crack_ ). Even his laugh changed, taking on a louder, more boyish quality and easily filling the room. For once in his life, he felt  _good_  and it was all because of  _LouisLouisLouis._

“Haz?” Louis asked for what, judging by the impatient foot taps that accompanied the question, probably wasn’t the first time.

“W-What?!” Harry’s head snapped up, his arm tightening its hold around Louis’s waist.

“Jesus. I  _said_  we should all go karaoke-ing tonight at that place down the street from Zayn’s. They’re having a duets competition tonight and I think it’d be fun if we all go.” Louis replied, gesturing to Niall and Zayn in front of them.

“What he  _means_  to say is that he thinks it’ll be fun to see me win the competition,” Zayn offered with a so-practiced-it-looked-almost-natural flip of his perfectly quiffed hair.

“Only one problem with that, mate. It’s a  _duets_  competition and while your ego’s definitely large enough for 2 people, I’m not entirely sure that counts,” said Niall, his face looking positively angelic as he batted his eyelashes repeatedly at Zayn.

Zayn’s head snapped in Niall’s direction so quickly that it was a wonder his brain wasn’t severely impaired by the whiplash.

“Bite. Your. Tongue,” he hissed, “I have more talent in one cheekbone than most people, let alone two, have in their entire body.”

“You know, I think Zayn’s right,” Harry blurts out before Niall, could fire back a response, earning shocked looks from both Louis and Zayn.

“I mean, he  _is_  fabulous. It just isn’t right if we don’t show him off to the world. A world of which Liam is soon to be a part because I am definitely inviting him

Zayn choked, visibly choked. It looked as if he was trying to speak, but the words just wouldn’t come  and, instead, were stubbornly trying to claw their way back down their throat.

“AND,” Harry added, “You aren’t allowed to magically contract some horrible ailment before tonight or I’ll tell Liam you’re avoiding him.”

Zayn was glaring now, his brows knitted together so closely it almost looked as if he had a unibrow.

“You’re just being mean now,” he said, and stalked past them, strutting down the hall.

“We’ll pick you up at 8!” Louis called after him before succumbing to the laughter he had been holding in for the previous five minutes. It was the most beautiful thing Harry had ever heard.

Ed POV

“Bloody hell!” Ed let out a loud yell as the hot, pungent liquid cascaded down in one long stream onto his face. He pushed the shaggy, grey stray away (causing it to bark in indignation), and rolled farther into his makeshift bed beside the dumpster.

Not. Again. Ed had been urinated on more in the past few months than he cared to admit. The perks of being homeless, he supposed. He pushed himself to his feet with a groan and wiped the piss off his face with the side of his arm.

The moon was already out in full, its bright round form surrounded by a quickly darkening blanket fastened with numerous twinkling stars. Ed stretched and took a deep breath, relishing the feel of the cool night air. As was his habit now, Ed slept during the day and roamed the streets of Doncaster at night. This way, he was less likely to be caught sorting through nearby rubbish (a practice which more than one of the locals held in poor regard). But he had no choice, he needed to eat.

Ed picked up the stained plastic trash bag that held all of his belongings. He took out two bottles of water, his cleanest pairs of ragged jeans, and a black band t-shirt that was one size too big and frayed at the hems. Stripping out of his current attire, he proceeded to wash himself with the bottled water and put on what he considered to be his nicest clothes.

“Well, this is as good as it’s going to get.”

He stifled a yawn and made his way down the street. He had recently made friends with the owner of a nearby karaoke club who promised him free admission. And, let’s face it, he was in need of some cheering up.

#

The club was crowded when he arrived, and Ed was forced to take a seat on a rickety wooden table with five boys who looked to be only slightly younger than he.

“Hello!” greeted the boy with hair so curly that Ed thought it had to be the result of multiple back to back perms. “I’m Harry.”

Ed shook the boys’ hands, smiling.  “Nice to meet you. I’m Ed, Ed Sheeran.”

“Likewise,” Harry said. “Ed, I’d like you to meet my friends.”

The thin, caramel-haired boy to Harry’s left, who Harry held flush against him with his left arm was introduced as Louis. He wore an expression that fell somewhere between “help me, the boy next to me is  crazy,” and “God, this is the best moment of my life.”

_Awww. They make a cute couple._

The tanned, angular boy next to Louis who, Ed had to admit, looked as if he had been sculpted by the gods, was introduced as Zayn. While attractive, Zayn’s good looks were overshadowed by the scowl that he was directing towards the bulky, kind-faced boy next to Harry. He was introduced as Liam, though Ed thought Spot or Rascal or some other name reserved for adorable puppies would have been much more apt.

Lastly, he was introduced to the boy directly on his right, Niall.

Ed was so taken aback by the other boy’s tangled blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and thick Irish accent that he almost fell out of his chair.

“H-Hi,” he muttered, praying to God he no longer smelled like dog piss. “Nice to meet you, Niall.”

“It’s mutual,” Niall drawled, winking.

_Shit. Well, this is going to be an interesting night._

#

After spending half an hour with the boys, Ed already felt like part of the group.

Through shared conspiratorial whispers with Niall (who Ed had decisively decided was his favorite), he learned that Harry and Louis were not, in fact, a couple. Or at least, not yet, because Harry still thought he was “straight,” as Niall had put it  _so_  enthusiastically. He also learned that, much to Zayn’s dismay, Zayn and Liam weren’t a couple either. Though Niall wagered it was only a matter of time because, well, you just don’t say  _no_  to Zayn Malik, especially when he has you in his sights and is in full determined diva mode.

Ed was about to ask Niall about his love interests, but was prevented from doing so by the appearance of a bright-eyed, wiry man on stage.

“Hello, everyone!” the man said into the microphone before him. “Welcome to Karaoke Night! We’ve got a long and hopefully  _fabulous_  night ahead of us, so let’s get started!” With a bow, the man left the stage.

The first few duets, however, proved to be anything but fabulous. Drunken college students comprised the majority of the contestants and, undoubtedly, in attempt to sound “hauntingly beautiful” or something else along those lines, they all performed  _ballads_.  _Fucking_  ballads.

After five or so of those performances, Louis slammed his fist down on the table. “That’s it! I can’t take this anymore! Hazza, hold my things because I’m about to go murder that stage and I don’t want blood on my new satchel.”

He moved to stand up, but Harry refused to let go of his waist, “NOOOOOO.” Harry pouted. “You can’t go up there because it’s there and I’m here and HERE is not THERE.” Harry’s eyes were wide, bottom lip pouted and pleading.

“Oh for the love of God,” Louis was visibly trying to prevent himself from smiling. “Come with me then!” And the two of them were on stage, whispering the name of their song to the house band.

Ed watched as the lights dimmed and everyone grew quiet. Then, just when Ed was beginning to think something must have malfunctioned, music filled the air. Harry and Louis had been standing at opposite ends of the stage, utterly still. But when the music started, they came alive. Harry became positively predatory, swaying his hips in time with the music and sauntering slowly towards Louis as he sang the opening lines to  _Take Me or Leave Me_  from  _Rent_ :

“Every single day I walk down the street, I hear people say ‘Baby so sweet’”

His voice was pure velvet, low and raspy and sensual as  _fuck_. Ed expected Louis to melt, but surprisingly, he stood his ground. He moved toward Harry, hands on hips and an impressive scowl on his face.

“Ever since puberty, everybody stares at me. Boys, girls, I can’t help it, baby.”

The two were circling each other now, sexual tension crackling in the gradually decreasing space between them.

As Harry finished the first part of the song, the two were standing nose to nose, and Ed was  _positive_  they were going to rip each others’ clothes off right then and there.

Suddenly, Louis jerked away with an emphatic snap and strode to the front of the stage.

“It won’t work!” he belted out in a flawless baritone. “I look before I leap, I love margins and discipline. I make lists in my sleep, baby. What’s my sin?”

Harry threw his hands up and stalked after Louis, quickly closing the distance between them. But Louis wasn’t having it. He continued to belt out his part while strutting around stage, Harry never far behind.

It wasn’t until they had to sing the chorus together that they came crashing together, their bodies flush against one another at center stage.

“Take me for what I am, who I was meant to be, and if you give a damn, you better take me or leave me.”

They were in perfect harmony, Harry’s high rasp and Louis’s low belt flowing together seamlessly.

The crowd roared as they finished, and, blushing, made their way back to the table. Harry’s hand was wrapped around Louis’s and both were blushing, as if they had just been caught in some intimate embrace.

“That was awesome!” Ed and the others shouted when they sat down.

“Thanks,” the boys muttered, now unable to look away from one another.

 “That was good,” said Zayn in an offhanded tone as the cheers subsided. But I think it’s time the queen took the stage!” With a last scowl at Liam, Zayn stood up and made his way to center stage. Whereas before the lights had been dimmed, now they were off completely.

The club was pitch black.

Ed was still struggling to make out Zayn’s form on stage when a single spotlight was turned on, pointing directly at Zayn.

Music filled the room and Zayn fixed his gaze on Liam. He leaned into the microphone, swaying fluidly from side to side, and started to sing.

“RA RA AH AH AH AH, Roma Romamama, Ga Ga ooh la la la, want your bad romance!”

Two things happened almost simultaneously. First, Zayn took his hands out of his pocket and threw them in the air, releasing the glitter they contained in a waterfall of sparking splendor. Second, with a flick of his wrist, the floor-length trench coat he had been wearing fell to the floor. He was bare-chested, only sporting a pair of tight leather pants and the most fabulous combat boots Ed had ever seen. Better yet, his skin was covered by neon green body paint.

Zayn sauntered around the stage as he sang, no longer needing the spotlight for illumination. He pointed out to the crowd as he sang (causing everyone in it, women and straight men alike, to scream). His eyes never left Liam’s.

“I want your loving, I want your revenge, you and me could write a bad romance.” His voice was low and rich, washing over everyone in a wave of pure ecstasy. There wasn’t a single person in the crowd who, at that moment, didn’t want him. Including Liam, whose eyes had visibly darkened in desire. He was leaning as far forward as he possibly could, as if drawn to Zayn by the sheer magnetic power of his voice.

Ed glanced over at Niall and was surprised to find the blonde boy already staring back at him. It was all Ed could do to suppress his smile.

When Zayn finished (amidst another wave of glitter and a riff that put Mariah to shame), it was as if the whole club came out of some intoxicating trance. The crowd just stared at first, rendered speechless by the uncontrollable, animalistic need they had all just felt, and then erupted into cheers. Zayn beamed and made sure to bow more times than was appropriate before descending from the stage and rejoining the boys.   

Zayn was stopped on his way over to the table by a lean, tall guy who, Ed had to admit, was the spitting image of the mythological Adonis. His wide smile revealed a perfect set of almost unnaturally white teeth that seemed luminescent in the dimly lit club. Despite protests from the attractive red headed girl behind him (who Ed was pretty sure was the guy’s girlfriend), Adonis slipped Zayn a folded piece of paper that could only have contained his number. With a louder than necessary laugh and, of course, a quick glance behind him to see if Liam was watching, Zayn took the piece of paper and slowly sashayed his way back to the table.

“Putting on a little private show, are we?” Niall asked sweetly as Zayn took his seat. “You know, I’m not sure you let him stare at your ass nearly long enough, maybe you should go pretend to be on Baywatch some more just to make sure.”

Zayn snorted. “Please. Baywatch stole that move from me.”

Everyone was saved from responding by Liam, who now appeared to be choking. His face was crimson, and little white splotches spotted his cheeks. He was studiously avoiding looking over at Zayn, and his hands were balled up into tight fists at his sides.

“Why Liam? What on earth is the matter?” Zayn asked in a voice that suggested that he knew EXACTLY what was causing the other boy such distress.

Harry and Louis were staring at each other, half not knowing what to say and, at this point, half not caring because they were too focused on each other.

So, as per usual, it was Niall who came to the rescue. “Hey, Ed. What do you say we show them how it’s done?” He gestured towards the stage.

“Oh, uh, well I don’t really sing…” He stuttered, not entirely sure he wanted to be on stage alone with the one boy in the entire club whose bright, baby blue eyes made him so nervous that even his thoughts were jumbled.

“Oh, come on mate. It’ll be fun, and I’ll be right there with you the entire time.” Niall’s wide, encouraging grin had Ed nodding and walking up to the stage before his brain even had time to process the request.

Niall stood close to him on stage, clearly not worried about trying to upstage either Zayn or Harry and Louis. He was really just there to have fun.  _To have fun with me._

When the music started, Niall turned towards him, wiggling to the upbeat tempo like a furby having a seizure, and it was all so ridiculous that Ed couldn’t help but smile.

“I threw a wish in the well, don’t ask me, I’ll never tell. I looked at you as it fell, and now you’re in my way.” Niall’s buoyant, accent-laden voice resonated throughout the club and Ed noticed that everyone, Zayn included, was grinning and bobbing their heads in tune with the beat. Meanwhile, Niall appeared completely oblivious to everyone but Ed. He was simultaneously attempting to tap his foot and shimmy over to where he stood, his eyes fixed on Ed’s every step of the way.

He didn’t know what had come over him, but without any cue from Niall he jumped right in and was surprised at how well their voices blended together.

“Your stare was holdin’, ripped jeans, skin was showin’. Hot night, wind was blowin’, where you think you’re going baby? HEY I JUST MET YOU, AND THIS IS CRAZY.” The crowd went crazy and clapped in rhythm with the beat as the two boys belted out the chorus.

Ed, tuning out the audience completely now, began to shimmy his way towards Niall (and prayed to God that he looked just as ridiculous as his partner). They sang the rest of the song almost face to face and, as they reached the final verses, Niall grabbed his hand. Ed jolted, but interlaced his fingers with Niall’s in spite of himself and relished the warmth that seemed to snake its way up from where their hands were joined and take residence in his cheeks. Then the song ended, and it wasn’t until he took his hand from Niall’s that he realized he was gripping a folded piece of paper.

OH MY GOD.

The crowd whooped and hollered, but he didn’t hear any of it as he attempted to descend the stage. This proved difficult, however, because he was stumbling around as if he had just drank his body’s weight in hard liquor and needed Niall’s warm (OH SO FUCKING WARM) hand to guide him back to his seat.

“I thought you said you couldn’t sing! You  _hustled_  me!” Zayn yelled, though the big smile he was attempting to hide attested to the fact that he loved their performance.

Ed grinned. “Sorry, mate. When you don’t have a lot of money, you do whatever you can to bring in some extra cash. And that includes street performing.” Laughter erupted around the table and it wasn’t until Liam stood up and made his way on stage that Ed remembered that he was the only one who hadn’t been smiling during their performance.

“HE SINGS?” All of the color drained from Zayn’s face as Liam assumed his position behind the microphone. “I.. I just freaking can’t with him anymore.”

The lights faded away until Liam was highlighted on center stage by a single spotlight.

“Ohh, How about a round of applause. Yeah, a standing ovation… You look so dumb right now, standing outside my house. Trying to apologize, you’re so ugly when you cry. PLEASE. Just cut it out.” Liam’s voice, without the accompaniment of the band, was low and crystal clear, the quality much like that produced when you run your finger  around the inside of an empty wine glass. He stared at Zayn and, in case anyone doubted to who this performance was being directed, he pointed straight at the other boy as he sang the word “please,” the pain infused in the word all but tangible.

“But you put on quite a show, really had me going. But now it’s time to go, curtains finally closin’. That was quite a show, very entertaining. But it’s over now, so go on and take a bow.” Liam stood at center stage the entire time and swayed gently with the music. It looked very much as if the music had taken hold of him, as if every single lyric that came out of his mouth were a part of him, products of his emotions and his pain and the overwhelming kindness that made him  _him._

The club was silent throughout the performance, all eyes fixed on Liam. As the song came to an end, Ed noticed that two solitary tears were tearing paths down either side of Liam’s face. The crowd was speechless. Liam muttered a polite thank you and calmly descended the stage, making his way towards the exit. He stopped at the table only briefly to mutter something in Harry’s ear and then he was gone. Zayn threw up his hands and jumped to his feet, stalking after him. The remaining boys were too busy watching their friends exit the club that they didn’t even hear the club’s owner, now on stage, announce Liam Payne as the winner of tonight’s karaoke competition.

#

“Well, that was fun.” Niall said with a nervous laugh as he and Ed left the club. Harry and Louis had both left a few moments before, muttering something about how they should probably go after Liam and Zayn. Ed has his suspicions about whether or not they were really going after their friends, but seeing as their absence left him alone with Niall, he didn’t complain.

“So…” Niall said, now shuffling his feet and staring at the ground. “Will you be hanging out with us more often now…” He said, and the anxiety that wracked his voice told Ed that what he was really asking was  _Will I get to see you again?_

 _Shit_. He felt his heart contract and had to look away to hide the grimace that he knew was now warping his features. This was the part of the evening that Ed had been dreading, the part where he tells the boys that he’s homeless and that he moves around a lot and that he really can’t afford to form attachments because he doesn’t ever stay in one place for more than a couple of weeks. And he had already been here for almost a month.  _Shit._

He risked a glance over at Niall and immediately knew that it was a mistake. The blonde boy’s blue eyes were darker now, appearing almost navy, the vague light cast by the mood causing them to sparkle brilliantly. “What’s wrong?” Niall asked, having read his facial expression as if he had known him his entire life.

“Well, uh, you see…” Ed took a deep breath. “I’m homeless. I had a problem with gambling a few months back and I started to rack up so much debt that my parents threw me out. I’ve been on the street ever since.” It was getting harder for Ed to speak, but he went on nonetheless.

“Gambling isn’t as much of a problem for me anymore; I guess living on the streets has even taken the luxury of having an addiction from me. And I move around a lot. After a couple weeks of searching through the local dumpsters, people start to notice. As you can imagine, the prospect of some hobo searching through their trash isn’t a pleasant one, and sooner or later someone tries to have me arrested. Or worse. So, I’m constantly on the move and I really can’t afford to form too many personal connections…” Ed trailed off, unable to bring himself to continue. He stared over at Niall, praying that the other boy would understand, that he would nod and say it was nice meeting him and that he wished him the best.

Instead, Niall reached over and brushed his thumb against his cheek, wiping away the tear that Ed hadn’t realized had escaped.

“Well, that’s about to change.” Niall said in a low, breathy whisper. “You’re going to stay with one of us, Ed. We’re not going to let you just live on the street. We’ll take care of you.” Niall had to clear his throat. “I.. I’ll take care of you.”

He wanted to push Niall away, to tell him that his offer was generous but that he didn’t need his charity, didn’t deserve it. Yet, despite his reservations, he found himself leaning into Niall’s light caress and nodding. “Okay… okay.”

Niall’s small, genuine smile was enough to make Ed feel as if he were making the right decision. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And as usual, ask us or our characters anything!


	10. Zayn/Niall/Louis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Triggers!: Attempted rape, violence, scenes of a sexual nature

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the tenth chapter, which means we're about halfway on our baby!! Cody and I would just like to thank everyone for being the absolute sweetest.

ZPOV

“COME ON, LIAM! WAIT UP!” Zayn yelled after Liam. The other boy was speed walking down the cracked sidewalk, kicking chunks of concrete to the side. His hands were in his pocket, his shoulders hunched forward.

Zayn had never wanted anything as badly as he wanted Liam to turn around. “Please, Li?” Liam’s feet stuttered to a stop at the nickname, then resumed, double time.

“Fine! You can just listen, then. Liam, I don’t know what you want from me. Just tell me, okay? Just tell me and I’ll do my best. But you can’t keep running away from me! You’re in much better shape than I am,” Zayn laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’ll never catch up.”

Liam didn’t even hesitate, still moving forward, still leaving Zayn behind. “Fine!’ Zayn yelled after the rapidly retreating figure. “Fine, you prick. If you want to run away like a baby every time I make you feel something, fine. But soon, I’m going to stop chasing.” Liam picked up his pace, turning a corner. Zayn turned and started walking back to the club.

Except, he couldn’t. Because there were three large men blocking his way.

“Hey, princess,” one of them said, “Where do you think you’re headed?”

“Please just let me go,” Zayn said, eyes fixed on the ground.

“But then who will play with us?” A second man said.

“We saw you sing that song,” the third said, leering. “You’re a little tease, aren’t you? Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is?”

The first chuckled. “Or your mouth where your money is?” He put his hands on Zayn’s shoulders, pressing down until Zayn was forced to kneel.

“Please,” Zayn said quietly, “Please stop.” He started to cry. The men just laughed, one of them beginning to unzip his jeans.

And then, then the man was on the ground, clutching at his knee, which was bent at a strange angle, and Liam was standing between Zayn and the other two. One of them came at Liam, who swiftly neutralized the man with a blow to the neck. The third man backed away and then turned, running.

Zayn was still on his knees, shaking and looking forward sightlessly. But then there were arms around him and lips pressed to his forehead over and over again, murmuring _shh shh it’s okay don’t cry it’s over now I’ve got you I’m never letting anyone touch you shh_ and the reassuring smell of toothpaste and freshly-mowed grass and Zayn leaned into Liam and he could breathe again.

Liam pulled him to his feet, supporting most of his weight when his knees went weak. Zayn breathed. Liam reminded Zayn how to breathe.

Surrounded by shadowy alleys, broken beer bottles, graffiti, and two moaning criminals, Zayn had never felt so safe.  

#Niall POV

Niall hated being Irish. _Well, that’s not true_ Niall corrected himself, _I love being Irish_. But the easy blush that came with his heritage? That he hated.

Now, for instance. Ed was in the shower, and Niall could hear the water hitting his skin. And he was putting sheets onto a couch. Where Ed would _sleep_.

The blood was rushing to his face, had been since earlier that evening, when a broad-shouldered boy with messy red hair and pale, pale eyes had say next to Niall and proceeded to look at _him_. At _Niall_. Not Zayn, with his dark, smoldering gaze or Harry with his cheeky smile or Louis with his tight jeans or Liam with his biceps. _Niall_.

Niall jumped when the couch dipped next to him. Ed was beaming at him cheerily, wearing an old pair of Niall’s brother’s sweats (Niall’s were too small) and a t-shirt. Ed reached slowly over, untangling Niall’s hands from his hair.

“Are you sure it’s cool if I stay here tonight?”

Niall couldn’t help it—Ed looked so insecure and embarrassed, he immediately burrowed into his chest, wrapping himself in warm, good-smelling boy. “‘S cool,” he said casually, ear over Ed’s heartbeat.

Ed chuckled nervously, but rubbed his cheek against the top of Niall’s hair.

Niall huffed a contented sigh, then stood up. “G’night, Ed.”

“‘Night, Niall.”

Both boys fell asleep with smiles on their faces, Niall glad, for once, for his red cheeks, if Ed’s heartbeat was faster under them.

#

LouPOV

By the time Louis stopped in front of Harry’s house, he seemed almost completely sober.

“Louis, will you come in with me?”

Louis laughed. “Oh come on, love. You aren’t that drunk. You’ll make it upstairs just fine.”

“No, Lou, I’m not drunk. Just, please. Stay,” Harry’s eyes were trained on his fingers, which picked restlessly at his jeans. He looked insecure.

“Um… mate? You okay? It’s just… I normally don’t stay over unless you’re having…” Louis searched for the right words, “a bad night.”

Harry shook his head “No, Lou. No. I’m fine. I just…” he sighed and tugged one of his hands through his hair, pulling at the already messy curls. “I sleep better when you’re here. I need you to stay with me. I need to have you with me. Like, all the time. It makes me nervous when you’re not. Just… please? Stay?” He finally looked at Louis, shoulders slumped and eyes liquid in the dim yellow light that emanated from the lampposts along his road.

Louis didn’t know what to say, but not one of the words clamoring for attention in his mind was “no.” His answer should have been no, his head should have drowned out his heart, but the idea of refusing Harry was, at this point, so completely against everything Louis _was_. So Louis just leaned over the seat, smoothed Harry’s curls, and said, quietly, “It’s okay, love. I’m not leaving.” Harry relaxed instantly into Louis’s touch. They both knew when Louis said he wasn’t leaving, he didn’t just mean that night.

Louis pulled into the garage and got out of the car. Harry was already next to his side of the car, almost vibrating with the need to touch. And Louis knew that this constant contact wasn’t healthy or normal, but it was somehow _them_ , so he didn’t say a word, just reached his arm out and let Harry tuck himself underneath it. They walked through the empty house and Louis squeezed Harry even closer, knowing how that emptiness felt in Harry’s stomach. Harry pushed one of his hands under Louis’s t-shirt, pressing his warm hand against the skin of the small of his back. Louis made a small whinging noise in the back of his throat and Harry chuckled quietly, pressing his lips to the side of Louis’s neck.

“Alright, Hugh Hefner. Let’s get you into bed,” Louis muttered, annoyed at his irrepressible reactions to Harry’s touch. Harry just laughed and pressed even closer as they traversed the stairs.

“You want a shower or anything?”

“Too tired,” Harry groaned. He reached behind his back and grasped his shirt, tugging it over his head and throwing it carelessly on the floor. Then he unbuttoned his jeans, wriggling them over his slim hips and stepping out of them before flopping face-down on the bed in just his pants, which were altogether too tight and too small for Louis’s sanity.

Louis tugged at the hem of his shirt nervously. “Harry, do you have any pajamas I can borrow?”

“Too tired. Just strip off ad get in bed.” Louis nervously pulled his clothes off as well, crawling under the covers quickly on the other side of the bed, his back to Harry. Harry groaned, mumbling under his breath, half asleep, and got up, getting under the comforter as well. “Louuuu. C’mere.” Louis slowly began to squirm back into the warmth radiating from Harry, but the other boy was too impatient, reaching an arm around Louis’s waist and pulling him to him effortlessly until they were spooning, tangling their legs, and huffing a warm breath into Louis’s eat before almost immediately falling asleep.

Louis didn’t want to fall asleep. Harry’s skin was warm and smooth against his back, his hand splayed against Louis’s stomach, as if pressing him even closer. But the sense of comfort slowly forced him to close his eyes and the last thing he remembered was Harry’s hand, searching for something in his sleep until Louis gave him his hand to hold.

#

When Louis woke up, it was to movement in the bed behind him. _Harry’s bed_ , he remembered. He stretched slowly, then jolted, eyes suddenly wide open. Harry was behind him. And … um…. having a good dream. He closed his eyes tight and started to panic. _Shit. Shitshitshit. Do I wake him up? Do I just leave? Oh my god. FUCK._ Just as he decided to go downstairs and make breakfast (read: cereal), Harry woke up.

“Mornin’, Lou,” he said in rasping tones. Louis counted to 30 under the wave of _want_ that ran up and down his spine. “What’s wrong?” he asked, obviously seeing the look of sheer terror on Louis’s face.

 _Don’t scare him away. Christ, he’s going to_ know. _He’s going to_ know, was repeating over and over in his mind.

Harry scratched his chest, confused at Louis’s silence. Then, he looked down. “Oh shit. Sorry if I molested you in my sleep, man. Sometimes biology sucks. I’m going to go take care of this and then we’re going to talk about why you’re not talking to me.”

 _Don’t scare him away. Christ, he’s going to_ know. _He’s going to_ know. Louis was trying to hear Harry through the repetition in his mind, but it was difficult to focus on doing anything but control his face and NOT LOOK DOWN. A few moments later, however, something filtered through his daze.

It was a moan.

A _moan_. A sexual noise that Louis could not help but picture Harry’s lips wrapped around.

It was followed by another one, still quiet, but definitely louder than the previous one. Louis was suddenly, unbearably, hard. He had to get out of there. What if Harry walked out and _saw_. Fucking hell. He jumped out of bed, wriggling into his suddenly tighter jeans from the night before and throwing his shirt over his head while running down the hall. Halfway through the living room, he realized he was barefoot. He turned to retrieve them, but suddenly heard the bathroom door open and shut. “Lou?” Harry’s voice yelled, “Where’d you go?”

Louis left the shoes. He slammed the front door, running to the garage, hopping on one foot and then the other on the freezing concrete as he unlocked the little car. His pocket vibrated, making him jump as he pulled it out of his pocket and backed out of the driveway, his hands shaking.

-          Where you going?

-          Are you okay?

-          We have plenty of milk, so I’m guessing you aren’t picking anything up…

-          Lou?

-          Louuuuu

-          Are you mad?

-          Please, please tell me what I did.

Each text lit up his phone, but he didn’t read them until he was home and in his own locked bedroom, hands still shaking, another tissue full of white gunk in his rubbish bin and lips bitten raw and red.

He cried, then, like he never let himself cry. He cried because he was ashamed, because he had gotten himself off to images of his best friend. He cried because even after spending a night with their limbs naked and braided together, Harry had been dreaming about body parts that Louis just couldn’t give him. And it wasn’t _fair_. It wasn’t fair because the sort of love Louis had for Harry _deserved_ to be reciprocated. But it was not and he was alone and feeling dirty and used and hating everything about him that Harry did not want.

When he finally stopped, he looked awful. Really terrible, with puffy eyes and blotchy skin. He walked down the stairs slowly, his eyes bloodshot, to help the girls get ready. Lottie was at the bottom, already looking concerned.

“Harry?” She asked quietly.

Louis just nodded, a bitter smile on his face. Because who else could it be? Who else had it ever been?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, we're open for character asks, questions, love, and criticism. Thanks for reading!!


	11. Harry/Liam/Ed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another of Cody's marvelous chapters :)

Harry sat on his bed, phone cradled in his lap, and gazed steadfastly down at its tiny unlit screen. He didn’t look away (couldn’t look away, really) and willed it to come to life, to send that small rectangular pane of light splashing onto his face. Because that would mean that Louis had finally answered one of his texts, would mean that the only person in the world who he never even fathomed could abandon him wasn’t ignoring him. He sat like that all night, his bedroom devoid of any light until the sun began to rise outside his window.

Harry slowly rolled off of the bed and started to get ready for school. His movements were slow, almost unnaturally so, and more than once Harry found himself holding some book or article of clothing and wondering why it was that he had picked up the object in the first place. Somehow though, his bag got packed, his shirt changed, and he was leaving his house on time to pick up Louis and the girls before school.

It wasn’t until he stopped outside of Louis’s house that every muscle in his entire body clenched. He doubled over the front of the steering wheel, suddenly not able to get enough oxygen.

 _What if he doesn’t want to see me?_ Harry was panicked; the thought that Louis might not even want a ride to school anymore hadn’t occurred to him until right now. It wasn’t as if he and Louis had exactly been on good terms when he had left yesterday. I mean, what was the protocol for dealing with your best friend when he was pissed at you for you don’t even know why when you were normally his ride to school? Surely this kind of thing happens to everyone, right? RIGHT!?

Nails biting unrelentingly into his palms, Harry forced himself to take a deep breath and get out of the car.

_There’s no use hiding. Even if he’s mad at you, not knowing is worse. Not seeing him is worse._

As it turns out, hiding was not worse. In fact, mere seconds after entering the dimly lit house in search of Louis, Harry knew that he would have been off shipping himself somewhere far, _far_ away. Somewhere like the arctic maybe, where there were lots of nice, friendly penguins that didn’t look at you as if you had just said that you hated Harry Potter, or that you didn’t cry during the Notebook, or that you didn’t think Zayn Malik’s hair looked fashionable. Because the way that Louis was looking at him now was all of that, but infinitely worse.

Louis’s eyes were blank, purposely (or at least Harry hoped) barren of any hint of emotion. No anger, no disappointment, no rage. Just indifference.

“Hey, Lou.” Harry said, his voice low and strained.

“Hey.”

“Do you and the girls, umm, still need a ride to school?”

“Yeah.” With that, Louis turned on his heel and went to round up the girls.

With the exception of Lottie, the girls were bright-eyed and happy to see Harry, assaulting his knees with bear hugs upon sight. He smiled down at them and responded by lifting them up into bear hugs of his own, laughing when they squealed that it was getting hard to breathe.

Lottie, however, kept her distance. She surveyed him with an icy stare, putting as much venom into her gaze as she could muster (which, he had to admit, was _a whole freaking lot_ ). It looked like the Tomlinson sass ran in the family.

The car ride to school was unusually quiet. Louis wasn’t responding to any of his attempts to make light conversation and anytime he tried to ask him what was wrong, he would just shake his head and continue staring out the passenger window. Harry’s throat tightened, and it was all he could do to fight back the tears forming behind his eyes as he pulled into the school parking lot and everyone piled out of the car.

Once they had walked the girls to their respective classrooms, Harry grabbed Louis by the arm and dragged him into an empty janitor’s closet.

“Lou.” He said after the door had closed behind them. “What’s _wrong?_ If I did something wrong, please tell me. I’m sorry for whatever it is and I’m begging you to just talk to me. I can’t… I can’t just not talk to you and have you mad at me and I just can’t. So whatever it is, talk to me. _Please._ ” He could feel the tears running in wide rivulets down either side of his face.

Louis’s mouth tightened, but that was Harry’s only indicator that the other boy had even heard what he had said.

“Boobear…”

“ _Don’t._ ” Louis’ voice was ice, pure fucking ice. Cold, hard, and more painful than anything Harry had ever experienced in his life.

“Nothing is wrong, Harold. I’ve got a lot going on in my life right now and, I know this is hard for you to believe, it doesn’t involve you. I’m sorry if this seems harsh, but I need to focus on me right now and I need you to respect that.”

“O-okay.” All Harry could do was nod.

“Good. Now I’m sorry, but I really have to get to class.” Louis strode past him, and very clearly avoided brushing Harry’s shoulder as he slid out the door into the hallway.

 _No no no no no no no._ Harry dropped to his knees, his mind unable to handle the fact that Louis, _his_ Louis, might not want him anymore.

LIAM POV

It was easier than Liam thought it would be to stay up with Zayn until he fell asleep. Though the other boy was obviously shaken, he didn’t appear needy or broken in the slightest. Yes, he leaned against Liam’s side as they made their way into his messy apartment (seriously, there were empty hair product containers EVERYWHERE), but Liam suspected that he really didn’t need the support.

“Will you stay with me?” Zayn muttered, his gaze purposely fixed on the floor as he made his way to the bedroom. “You don’t have to lay with me or anything, the company would just be… nice.” The subtle, almost unnoticeable hitch, in his voice had Liam nodding and striding after him.

Liam sat on the edge of the bed and waited for Zayn to snuggle underneath the covers.

“You okay?” He asked, voice almost inaudible, once the other boy had stopped moving.

“Yeah, I am. Thanks.” Liam turned to face Zayn, but his eyes were already closed, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned.

Though he knew the other boy wouldn’t be able to see him, he smiled. He sat like that, just enjoying the contentedness that had somehow permeated every inch of the room, until he heard the sound of Zayn’s soft, _adorable_ snores.

He lifted himself off of the bed, careful not to let it shake even minutely, and somehow found himself kneeling so that he was face to face with Zayn’s peaceful, sleeping face. Almost of its own accord, Liam’s hand reached out and cupped Zayn’s face, the pad of his thumb rubbing light circles against the other boy’s smooth skin. He closed his eyes, allowing himself a second to cherish the moment, before tearing himself away and leaving the apartment.

 _Why are you doing this to yourself?_ He knew that he needed to be careful around Zayn, that he shouldn’t let himself fall for someone so unpredictable, so dangerous. But he couldn’t help it. Whereas at first he had seen Zayn as a remarkably beautiful playboy, he was more than just a player looking for his next lay. He was intelligent and fiercely loyal and _strong_. Zayn was the type of person who pursued the things he wanted with a passion so intense that it made everyone else that Liam had ever encountered appear dull by comparison.

 _So, what’s the problem?_ Liam closed his eyes and leaned back against the cool wood of Zayn’s closed apartment door. He knew what the problem was, had known since the first time he laid eyes on Zayn. This boy, this remarkable boy who never ceased to surprise him, reminded him so much of William. And if there was one thing that Liam never _ever_ needed in his life again, it was another William.

***(FLASHBACK)***

“Hey, come with me! I’ve got something to show you.” William smiled over at him, his straight, dark hair curling at the edges and blue eyes glittering.

“Oh, um, okay!” Liam brushed his unfortunately long hair out of his eyes and smiled back at the other boy. He could feel his heart beating faster, as it almost always did when he was talking to William, but the reaction was so natural now that he almost didn’t notice.

Liam followed as his best friend went sprinting down the hallway past their middle school classrooms. Out of breath, he came to a halt to where William was waiting outside of the gymnasium. He bent over, placing his hands on his knees and breathing rapidly (being overweight, physical exertion was hard on him).

“Wil-William.” He said, struggling to regain his breath. “Are you sure you aren’t uncomfortable after what I told you yesterday.”

“Oh, not at all, Li. So you’re gay, it’s no big deal. Now come on!” Liam followed him into the gym.

His entrance was greeted by a barrage of basketballs. Liam cried out in pain, the force of the endless impacts driving him to the ground. He curled into a ball, trying desperately to protect his body.

“WILL!” He shouted. “WILL, HELP. SOMETHING’S WRONG!!!”

Silence fell over the gym. Liam risked a glance around him and noticed that there were about ten boys from the football team, Will included, standing in a small circle around him. He watched as his best friend stepped forward.

“Oh, nothing’s wrong, _faggot_. We’re just giving you and your _disgusting_ self what you deserve. Understand?” Liam’s could only stare back at Will, his eyes wide.

“B-but… I don’t understand. You said it was okay…” He finally stuttered.

“Well maybe this will help you understand.” Will took another step forward and landed a vicious kick in Liam’s gut.

As if on cue, the other boys advanced. They began to kick him in unison, leaving no inch of his body untouched. More out of fear than pain, Liam screamed. He screamed and screamed and screamed, praying that some God somewhere would hear his cries and send help. That someone somewhere would realize what was happening to him and care. No one came. By the time they had finished, Liam was left bruised and bleeding on the floor of the gymnasium.

He dropped out of school two days later.

*** (BACK TO THE PRESENT) ***

Liam shuddered. No, he most definitely did _not_ need another William, even one as beautiful and passionate as Zayn. While he had spent the past couple of years training as a boxer so he could protect himself physically, _emotionally_ he couldn’t go through that again. He couldn’t be betrayed by the person he cared about most, not again. He wouldn’t survive. With a deep breath, Liam detached himself from Zayn’s front door and went home.

HARRY POV

 This time Harry called Louis not so much because he was sad the girl he had just picked up didn’t want to stay the night, but because he just wanted to come over. To stay and lay with him, to assure him that even when everything else went to shit, he’d still be there. Like things used to be.

But Louis wasn’t answering his phone. Harry had tried to call him what must have been near a hundred times and still, nothing. It was more than he could take.

His skin, his nerves, his whole body was on fire. He felt panicked and abandoned and as if every moment of his existence was coming at the cost of excruciating pain.

Harry rolled off of his bed and ran for the bathroom, afraid that if he didn’t do something soon he was going to lose his mind entirely. He ripped his shirt off and sprawled out on the bathroom floor, needing the coolness of the tiles to seep into his skin. While this helped to abate the pain, it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough because he had lost LouisLouisLouis.

He jumped to his feet and strode over to the bathroom sink, his hand already reaching down to open the drawer that contained his razor. This time, when he saw it gleaming in the dim bathroom light, he didn’t hesitate to take it into his hand. Whereas the floor tiles had been cool, the razor was _ice_. It gave off a coldness that Harry wasn’t sure was completely physical and seeped into his body, penetrating his skin and muscles and dripping to form stagnant pools in his bones.

Harry shivered. He began to trace the razor in light circles around his left wrist, knowing that he just had to apply a little more pressure to obtain the desired result. His senses were no longer overwhelmed by pain; the coldness that had taken residence in his body made them acute, aware of _everything_. The dim lights were now glaring down at him, as if reminding him that he had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. If he did this, they would ensure that he never forgot it was he, Harry fucking Styles, who was cutting himself. He would not be granted the luxury that dim lights had to offer; the shadows that warped his features just enough that later on he could pretend he had watched someone else cut himself in the mirror, someone he didn’t know.

 _But what would Louis say?_ Harry let out a bitter laugh. Would Louis even care? Maybe this could be his way at getting back at him, of doing something that he knew Louis hated more than anything else. Maybe… just maybe…

 _NO._ The sound of the razor clattering against the floor made Harry jump. He stared down at it in amazement.

Shaking, Harry retrieved the razor and firmly placed it back in its drawer. He needed Louis, and there was nothing he could do to change that fact. But he needed to win Louis back, to show him that he was someone worth loving, not someone who slept with random girls and contemplated cutting himself every time things got difficult.

Harry took a deep breath and sank to the bathroom floor. He rested his head against the cool tiles, hugged himself, and fell asleep pretending that the arms around him were not his own.

Ed POV

“Wakey wakey!” Niall’s overly enthusiastic, albeit sexy, voice was almost more than Ed could handle.

Ed groaned. “B-but. What time is it?” He rolled away from Niall, burrowing himself further into the couch.

“It’s 10 a.m.! Well past time for my second breakfast! Come on, I’ll make you something!”

“Must you be so excited?” Ed asked, unable to keep the affection out of his voice.

“Yes!”

 _UGH_. Ed stretched and forced himself into a sitting position.

“Okay, I’m up. Do you really cook?” He raised one eyebrow suspiciously.

“Well, um, no. But Nando’s is close by! And it’ll be my treat so it’s kind of like I’m cooking for you.”

He bit his bottom lip. “Oh, that’s… that’s sweet, but I can’t let you take me out, Niall. You’ve already done so much for me, and I don’t want to burden you more than I already have…” The look Niall gave him rendered him too fearful for his life to finish the sentence.

He watched as Niall took a deep breath and kneeled down in front of him.

“You are never, I mean _never_ , allowed to refer to yourself as a burden again. Okay?” Niall’s bright blue eyes found his.

Ed nodded, suddenly unable to remember how to speak.

“Okay then. Just so you know, Ed. Everything I do for you… I do because I _want_ to. Because I _like_ doing things for you.” Niall, smiling now, reached out and captured one of Ed’s hands in his own.

“So, please,” he continued, “Will you go to Nando’s with me?”

He laughed. “Yes, Niall. Yes, I do… uh, will.”

In response, Niall planted a gentle kiss on the palm of his hand. Ed was convinced that he was going to die.

***

When he picked Louis and the girls up for school the next morning, Harry didn’t give Louis any space. He crowded close to him whenever they spoke, relishing in the feel of the heat radiating off of the smaller boy’s body, and purposely bent down to whisper everything he had to say in Louis’s ear.

When they were in the car, he fastened his hand securely over Louis’s, not allowing him even a moment of respite. Yet, each time, Louis tried to squirm away.

He’d push past Harry, seemingly unaffected by his close physical proximity, and would work to pry Harry’s fingers off of his hands so that he could move farther away. Every time he did this (which was every time Harry tried to touch him. Every. Single. Time.), he fought to keep his wide grin in place, not wanting Louis to notice how bad he felt.

It was horrible. Harry felt as if he were constantly on the verge of breaking down, of succumbing to the hopelessness that had almost driven him insane the night before. But he was trying, really _trying_.

After dropping the girls off, Harry followed Louis to his locker. He didn’t say anything, but followed him at such a close distance that he knew the other boy couldn’t help but notice his presence. At his locker, Louis spun around and looked him right in the eye.

Harry felt like someone had just ripped out his heart. Louis’s eyes were sad, sadder than he had ever seen them. What’s worse, he was crying. Louis Tomlinson, who practically raised his four sisters, who never stopped to so much as think about himself, who was tougher than anyone else he had ever met, was crying.

“Haz.” He said, his voice strong and clear. “Stop, please. I just… I need you to stop.”

“But Boobear…”

Louis shook his head. “Please. Just, please.”

Harry nodded and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Send us whatever! The boys and Cody and I are all down to answer your craziest, creepiest questions.


	12. Louis/Zayn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a really big chapter, guys! We're so excited to see your reactions! Also, Raven has a couple of short fics, not in this verse, that she's been working on, so she might post them this week as a bit of a treat. DO YOU REALIZE WE HAVE OVER 3,000 HITS? It means so much of us that you guys are still following this story, and our versions of the boys we're obsessed with. Thank you! xx  
> \--Cody and Raven

Chapter 12

Harry had left him alone for a total of 2 hours before he was back at it, touching him with a kind of determination in his fingertips.

Louis was convinced he was going insane. _INSANE._ And it was all Harry’s fault. Really, he had to know. No one is that oblivious. He had to realize that every single time he touched him, pins and needles jabbed every inch of Louis’s skin. He had to know that every time he whispered into Louis’s hair and his lips brushed the shell of his ear or he kissed his cheek, Louis was imagining his mouth on other *ahem* decidedly less appropriate body parts. He had to. Louis could _feel_ his dilated pupils and shaking hands, could _feel_ his body giving him away. Zayn kept looking at him – at his probably wild eyes and his clenched jaw – and mouthing words like “breathe” or “it’ll be okay.” He wasn’t even trying to take the piss.

When even _Zayn_ wasn’t trying to take the piss, Louis knew it was bad.

Louis purposefully sat between Zayn and Niall at lunch, plopping his tray on the table. Harry looked at him, confused for a moment and looking rather like a kicked puppy. Then, suddenly, his face lit up. Louis’s breath caught in his chest for a moment, mesmerized by mint eyes and childish dimples. Harry kissed his cheek, then promptly dropped into his lap, long legs swung to the side in a position that had to be uncomfortable. Harry didn’t seem uncomfortable, though. Instead, he happily sighed, wriggling into place and resting his forehead against Louis’s temple for a second before starting to pick at both of their lunches. Louis blushed and made a strange choking noise in the back of his throat.

“What?” Harry said. “Is my ass too bony? It’s not my fault – we all can’t have your bum.” He waggled his eyebrows. Louis was beginning to feel claustrophobic.

“Won’t all of that PDA put a dent in your career as a playboy?” Zayn asked. Louis threw him a thankful glance.

“I think we all know Louis’s the real love of my life, anyway,” Harry responded jokingly. Niall and Zayn winced and Louis really, really couldn’t breathe.

“What? What did I say?” Harry looked slightly panicked.

“Harry, I’m going to need you to get off of me,” Louis said carefully, forcing himself to keep his voice even.

“What? Lou, what’s going on?”

“Get. Off.” Louis spoke through clenched teeth.

“I don’t understand.” Harry looked close to tears, but for once, Louis was the one causing them, instead of wiping them away. Louis. Could. Not. Breathe.

“Off!” he yelled, standing up suddenly. Harry spilled off his lap, landing in a pile of tangled limbs at his feet. His eyes were big and green and so confused, so unwilling to believe Louis would cause him pain. Louis felt his eyes begin to sting and realized, horrified, that he was about to cry in a crowded, silent lunchroom with everyone staring at him. He backed away, slowly walking to the doors. Then, he was around the corner, out of sight, and running as fast as he could in a pair of TOMS. Within seconds, the slapping of his feet against tile had an echo.

“Lou, wait!” Harry yelled after him. Louis wiped his tears away and kept going, hitching breath sounding too loud in his ears. He veered suddenly, opening a door and skidding to a stop inside a deserted bathroom. He sank heavily against the door, just in time to feel Harry’s full momentum crash into the other side.

“Lou,” Harry said, his voice worried, “Lou, babe. Open the door.” Louis could not answer, his sobs drowning out any semblance of a response.

“Lou, _god,_ are you crying?” Harry’s voice was gentle. “Let me help. Please, love. Please let me in.” Both boys knew he wasn’t just talking about the bathroom.

Louis tried, but he’d never been able to deny him anything. A few minutes later, he stood and opened the door. Harry scrambled to his feet and launched himself at Louis.

“Please don’t cry, Lou,” he begged. “I’ll fix it. Let me fix it.”

“You’re making it worse, Harry. You’re hurting me.” Louis dragged himself from Harry’s embrace.

“I hurt you? Should I go get the nurse? God, I’m sorry. Where does it hurt?”

“No, Harry!” Louis interrupted, frustrated. Harry jumped back. Louis never yelled at him. Not when he was being stupid or petty or flirtatious or depressed. He hadn’t yelled at Harry when he discovered the cuts on his skin. But he had yelled at him in the lunchroom and he was yelling at him now. “Sorry, Harry,” Louis tugged at his hair, messing up his fringe. Harry automatically reached out to fix it, but dropped his hand at his side. “Just… I need to tell you something and I really, really don’t want to but I have to. Because you’re actually going to make me crazy and I can’t sleep and I’m just… I’m so _fucked_.”

Harry looked at him steadily, eyes wide, “You can tell me anything, love.”

Louis laughed harshly, “That’s kind of the problem, Harry. You call me love and you touch me all the fucking time and Jesus Christ you have to know, you have to know what that does to me.”

Harry’s eyes remained wide. He still didn’t get it. Louis heaved a sigh and tugged at his hair again. He had no idea how Harry could skip grades and write A+ papers and memorize equations, when he was so _thick_ sometimes.

“Harry, I need you to understand. Because one of these times when you call me babe or grab your hand or smile at me like I’m _everything_ , I’m going to snap. I’m going to break and kiss you or something, and I know that’s not what you want, so you have to… you have to back off.”

Louis snuck a glance through his eyelashes. Harry’s jaw was slack and his eyes unfocused. He would have to just say it. He braced himself, took a moment to breathe in a world where Harry Styles was his best friend who didn’t _know_.

“Harry, the thing is, I’m completely gone for you. Always have been. Everyone knows. I mean, you’d have to be blind to not know I’m in love with you.” And there, he’d said it. But Harry’s eyes were still flickering back and forth and his mouth was gaping and, yeah, Louis had expected this, but that doesn’t mean he hadn’t wanted something more. He thought he might cry again.

Harry still hadn’t said anything. Louis waited. And waited. And finally, he left, making sure not to touch Harry when he walked past him to the door. Louis knew his eyes were going red and he didn’t like it, didn’t like showing anyone how much it _hurt_ , but couldn’t, couldn’t be alone right then, so he texted Zayn and Niall (It was bad. I told him. I need to go home. Can one of you come?). They met him at his locker, wordlessly wrapping an arm around him each and half-dragging him to Zayn’s car. Louis choked on a sob when they passed Harry’s Range Rover. Niall squeezed his waist and said “it will be alright.” Louis wasn’t sure it would be.

Ed and Liam were already at Louis’s house when they arrived. Ed was carrying bottles of alcohol and Liam had ice cream and Louis thought sarcastically that he might love them, if he didn’t already know how that turned out.

They sat in the living room, some insipid movie playing on the TV for background noise, and the boys forced Louis to talk. Niall wrapped himself around Louis like an octopus and he tried not to compare him to Harry. He did anyway. Harry was better at cuddling Louis, no contest.

Zayn asked what happened, and Louis tried not to cry when he told them how Harry had just _stared_ at him, like he was some kind of freak.

Liam gritted his teeth and bunched his fists and Louis begged him not to, said that Harry would still need a friend and Niall pulled him closer and told him to sod off because it was okay to be angry at Harry.

“But I’m not,” groaned Louis, “I’m not angry at Harry. I’m the one that ruined everything. If I would have just kept my mouth shut, everything would be fine.”

Zayn growled, “Stop doing that! You couldn’t be a convenient cuddle for Harry for the rest of your life. Maybe now you can get over him. Start pulling pretty boys at clubs. I could teach you…” He cut off abruptly at the look Liam shot him.

Louis rolled his eyes. “I’m not getting over him.”

Everyone stared at him. “I know I’m new here,” Ed said slowly, “but pardon my French when I say why the fuck not?”

“It’s not just a crush. You don’t ‘get over’ love. Maybe it’ll change somehow and make room for me to love someone else at some point, but I’m always going to love Harry. I can’t imagine a world where I wouldn’t. I don’t want to. 30 years from now, if Harry called me in the middle of the night, I’d get to wherever he was and comfort him the same way I have been. I’m not letting it go, and I absolutely refuse to ‘get over it.’”

The other boys stared at him. Zayn cleared his throat and when he spoke, his voice was suspiciously thick. “You really love him, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Louis shrugged.

“Then you guys will figure it out,” Liam said confidently.

“I hope so.”

Louis decided he needed a nap, but the other boys decided to stay, just in case. He really did have great friends.

He woke up a few hours later to a warm body getting into bed behind him.

“H-Harry?” he added quietly, knowing how badly it would hurt when he woke up alone, the body behind him just a dream.

“Yeah. It’s me,” a familiar voice breathed and Harry pulled him back against him. Louis jolted, suddenly completely awake and tense.

“Don’t. Please don’t,” Harry begged and Louis forced himself to relax. “Listen, okay?” Louis nodded, his heart thudding against his rib cage. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, babe. I was surprised, but I didn’t ever mean for you to think that I was leaving you. The boys told me you thought that. How could you even think that? _Fuck_ , Louis. We’re HarryandLouis and you’re my best friend. I can’t live without you. _Jesus_ , Lou, I can’t _sleep_ without you. We’ll figure things out. Just…” Harry sighed before gently rolling Louis over until they were face to face. He brushed his lips over the furrowed skin of Louis’s forehead, then rested his against it, nuzzling their noses together. “Stay. I need you to stay.” Louis closed his eyes, so close that his eyelashes brushed Harry’s, and nodded. They fell asleep like that, close enough to kiss, both breathing easier than they had all day.

#

ZPOV

“I can’t watch this for much longer,” Zayn said, closing the door carefully and leaning against Liam’s shoulder, because it was hurting him not to touch the other boy. The two had come upstairs to check on Harry and Louis, who were even more entwined than normal under Louis’s sheets.

“What do you mean? That looks like a happy ending to me,” Liam said, startled at the affectionate touch, but too tired of resisting the inevitable to stop it.

“You haven’t watched this as long as I have. They’ve been like this since I moved here when I was 10. Louis wants and wants and Harry needs and needs, but Harry can’t give Louis what he wants and Louis would cut off his own fucking skin and make it into a coat just to make sure Harry wasn’t a fucking degree too cold. It’s killing Lou. And I know what it’s like, you know? I know what it’s like to love someone who is incapable of loving you back, and _Christ_ Louis is altogether too good for that kind of pain.”

Liam cautiously lifted a hand to the nape of Zayn’s neck, playing with the soft hair there and smiling high when Zayn nuzzled his face deeper into his shoulder. “I thought Zayn Malik doesn’t do love.”

Zayn tensed, but Liam kept him there with his hand carding through his hair. “I don’t. Not anymore.”

“When did you?”

Zayn sighed, “When I was 13 and following a 25 year old man around London on the weekends, just trying to prove that I was good enough to suck his cock and then crying when he proved that’s all I was good for. Any other questions?”

“Yeah, actually.” Zayn looked up, surprised. “When are you going to stop believing the lies a statutory rapist told his victim?”

Zayn didn’t say anything, just slumped a bit against Liam’s side as if the weight on his shoulders was a little less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... what do you think?


	13. Harry/Liam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another of Cody's great chapters. Personally, I screamed into my pillow for a good three minutes after reading it...

Harry POV

Harry and Louis spent the entire next day discussing Louis’s declaration of his love for Harry. Well, sort of. Maybe. If you count them spending the entire day as a kind of walking cuddle machine and utilizing their bodies to tell one another that they were determined to make things work then, yes. They spent the entire day talking.

Yet, as the day came to an end, Harry could tell that Louis was becoming increasingly more terrified. Whereas before the other boy would positively _purr_ in response to his touch, always arching his body into it to maximize contact, now Harry could tell it was all Louis could do not to wince. It appeared to Harry much as if the feel of his skin was excruciatingly, immeasurably painful to Louis, and that the only reason his best friend didn’t pull away was because he wanted to be polite.

“Okay, Lou.” Harry blurted out finally, putting an arm on either side of Louis’s frame and in essence trapping him against the wall.

“What?” Louis’s voice was incredibly small, and he was steadfastly picking away at the hem of his black tee.

“Lou, look at me.” He had been so used to touching Louis as of late that Harry didn’t even realize he had reached out to pull his best friend’s chin upward until his eyes rested upon a pair of stormy grey-blue eyes. His loud, resulting inhalation was definitely audible.

“That’s better. Now, Lou. Boobear. Will you tell me what’s wrong? _Please_?” Harry took a half step forward, his eyes locked on Louis’s. The front of Louis’s shirt brushed up against the exposed strip of skin between the bottom of Harry’s white tee and the top of his jeans. He gulped.

“Come on, Lou. _Please?_ ” The gravelly quality of his voice indicated to Harry that he had now gone full-on _growl._

In response, Louis shot a quick glance out the kitchen window for what must have been the millionth time in the past hour. The sun was lower on the horizon than it had been just a minute ago, its yellow light now darkening to a rich, blood red.

“It’s almost time for bed.” Louis muttered in a voice so quiet that if Harry hadn’t been standing practically on top of him, he probably wouldn’t have heard.

“Is that a bad thing, Lou?”

“Well, yes… no. I don’t know.” He watched as the stormy grey-blue eyes once again found his own. They seemed to be pleading with him, as if Louis were afraid that Harry was about to do something unspeakable, something neither of them could bear.

 _He thinks I’m going to leave. He thinks that because the day is over that I’m going to go home to sleep, that I’m going to try and make things go back to the way they were before._ Though he knew it probably wasn’t the right time, he couldn’t help it. He laughed. Then, with one quick swoop of his arms, Harry picked Louis up and cradled him to his chest.

“Come on, Boobear. It’s time for bed.”

“I… what… um, really?” Louis sounded dazed and the reaction was so _freaking adorable_ that Harry buried his face in the other boy’s hair, the smell of vanilla intoxicating.

“Really.” He strode up the stairs and down the hall to Louis’s room, not stopping until they were both sprawled out on the tiny bed.

“Now, Lou. I’m going to leave once you fall asleep, but I need you to promise not to freak out before I get back, okay? Because I _will_ be back and I’ll even have some… umm… gifts? with me.”

Though he couldn’t see his face, Harry felt Louis nod against his chest.

“Good. Now I’m going to help you get to sleep.” He knew what he said sounded suggestive, but somehow his ability to make that endearing, faint blush creep its way up Louis’s neck into his face (as it was doing now, coincidentally) filled him with a fierce sense of pride.

Satisfied with his work, Harry began to sing. “Well you done done me and you bet I felt it, I tried to be chill but you’re so hot that I melted. I fell right through the cracks, now I’m trying to get back.” His voice was soft and melodic, the entire performance utterly and perfectly simple. As opposed to at the karaoke bar, Harry wasn’t striving for flare and vocal perfection; he was striving for warmth and comfort and well, _intimacy_.

“So I won’t hesitate no more, no more. It cannot wait, I’m sure. There’s no need to complicate, our time is short. This is our fate, I’m yours…” Harry cut the song off early as the sound of Louis’s quiet snores filled the room.

“Goodnight, Boobear.” He whispered and, not entirely sure why, kissed Louis on the forehead before climbing out of bed, running out to his car, and driving home.

Liam POV

As he walked Zayn home from Louis’s (more afraid to interrupt the ridiculous displays of Larry’s, as he, Niall, and Ed were calling them, affection than anything else), Liam wasn’t expecting Zayn to open up to him any more than he already had. The other boy was devoid of his usual spirit and clung limply to Liam’s side. It was as if simply talking about his past had rendered him lifeless, had threatened to throw him into the depths of those horrible memories and left him holding to Liam as if he were some anchor to this reality.

Which is why Liam almost jumped in surprise when Zayn started speaking in a low, flat monotone.

“I was in love with him. Well, as much as anyone as young as I was could be in love, I suppose. But it still felt, _feels_ , like it was love to me. I guess that makes me a monster.”

Unable to help himself, Liam tightened his arm around Zayn’s shoulder and began to rub his thumb in soothing circles against the exposed skin directly above his elbow.

“You’re not a monster, Zayn. You may be many things, but a monster is not, and will never be, one of them.” Liam was suddenly aware of a sharp stinging behind his eyes.

“What would you call me then?” He whispered, bitter resentment and immense sadness flooding his voice. “I mean, he was my teacher for fucks sake. My _teacher_.” Zayn tried to pull away, but Liam refused to let him do this. To let him isolate himself and retreat behind that wall of sarcastic indifference and mock superiority that Liam had grown to absolutely _hate_.

“Zayn. You were 13. You were young and he fucking took advantage of his authority over you. That is in no way _your_ fault.” He was faintly aware of his hand digging into Zayn’s arm, but he didn’t let go. Liam had never been so angry in his life before (well, to be honest, he was rarely ever even a little angry), and he needed Zayn close if for no other reason than to prevent him from going berserk and taking his fist to everything in sight.

“But I let it happen! He called me to his class after school one day and filled me with some bullshit about how I was the most _special_ student he had ever had and that he wanted to pursue a more _meaningful_ , mature kind of relationship with me. Then he locked the door and sat in front of me on his desk. He put his hand on his belt and asked me if I knew what he meant. And I SAID YES. I knew it was wrong and I knew what he was implying, but I went along with it anyway because he made me feel _special._ I could have walked out of that classroom and never looked back, but I didn’t. I stayed. And I stayed the time after that and the time after that because every time we finished he told me he loved me and I _believed_ him.” Zayn began to claw at Liam’s arms with a renewed vigor, but the retelling of his abuse left him even weaker than before. After a moment of fighting, he collapsed and Liam’s arms were the only things that prevented him from diving face first into the concrete.

“Zayn.” Liam’s tone was commanding, imbued with an uncharacteristic authority that demanded the other boy’s attention. “I want you to listen very carefully. That man was a _monster_ and he abused you. He took advantage of you when he knew you were vulnerable and it is not your fault. I know that you think now that you could have walked out of that door and prevented it all but Zayn, he wasn’t really giving you a choice. He didn’t really want you to decide to be with him on your own. He wanted to manipulate you, to use his power as an authority figure to intimidate you into doing whatever he wanted. Yes, his attention made you feel special at the time, but that’s _no reason_ to feel ashamed. You were young and you thought that this man, who was supposed to be your role model, really cared about you. Feeling that way makes you human, Zayn, _human_. Not a monster.” By the time he finished, Liam was no longer able to force back the tears. He cried silently, watching them fall and stain tiny spotted patterns into the sidewalk.

“Do you really think that?” Zayn whispered as he stared up into Liam’s eyes.

“I know that.” He answered resolutely. “While you, Zayn Malik, can be overdramatic, intensely provocative, and _maddeningly_ frustrating you are not, and will never be, a monster. You’re wonderful...”  He trailed off, his voice barely a whisper now.

Zayn’s brilliant, answering smile made Liam feel as if he had accomplished more on this walk home than he ever would again in his entire life.

Harry POV

Harry was sitting beside the front door when Louis made his way downstairs, his hair in complete disarray.

“Morning sleepyhead!” Harry said with a big smile.

“Morning… what are those?” Louis asked as he pointed to the two large duffle bags sitting beside the door.

“Well, this.” He replied, pointing to the green bag. “Contains all of my favorite clothes, the beanie of dreams included. And this.” Harry said, gesturing to the blue bag. “Contains some odds and ends, a few toiletries, and the few things I own that actually possess some sentimental value.”

“Okay… but what are they doing here?” Louis asked, most definitely confused.

“Well, I’m going to need them if I’m moving in, aren’t I?” He said as if it were most obvious explanation in the world. Louis looked like he was about to pass out.

“M-move in? Why on earth would you want to do that? And who said you could just bring your stuff here without an invitation, Styles. This isn’t a freaking motel.”

Harry, unsure whether or not Louis was angry or just especially sassy this morning, faltered. “Well, since nobody is ever home at my house, I was just thinking I’d be of more use here. I could help out around the house and drive the girls places so you don’t have to do everything by yourself and make actual breakfast because let’s face it cereal every day is _not_ okay and help coach the girls’ football team and make you that tea you like and, fuck Lou, just spend more time with you…” He gasped, not able to throw in any more reasons why Louis should let him stay without actually breathing.

Louis stared at him. “You already got yourself a coaching position for the girls’ team, didn’t you?” And yep, his hands were already on his hips.

“Maybe…” Harry decided it was a great time to start admiring the floor. I mean, have you seen how polished oak _shines_?

“Well, I suppose you better get unpacked then.” When Harry looked up, Louis was grinning.

“You. Little. DIVA.” He rushed the smaller boy and pulled him into an enormous bear hug.

“Haz… need… oxygen… dying.” But Harry only loosened his grip slightly as he spun them around until they were both too dizzy to continue standing (at which point, they resolved to cuddling on the floor at the foot of the stairs). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	14. Zayn/Louis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't kill us. Please? We're really nice people outside of fanfiction, I swear

ZPOV

Zayn laughed – an honest-to-god, throwing-his-head-back belly laugh – as Harry clutched Louis’s hips possessively for the tenth time that night. Liam leaned his head on Zayn’s shoulder and chuckled too, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners.

“That’s what, ten?” Liam asked.

“Yeah. If this were a drinking game, we’d all be hammered by now,” Zayn responded.

“Drinking game?” Niall and Ed popped up at Zayn’s elbow, startling him.

“I swear to god, if you turn all the lights off and say ‘drinking game’ into a mirror three times, you summon an Irishman.”

“And his ginger sidekick,” Ed chimed in.

“Honorary Irishman, innit?” Niall said.

Zayn and Liam stared, mouths gaping, at Niall.

“Niall, mate,” Liam asked carefully, “Didn’t you tell your own mother that she had lost the privilege of being Irish last week?”

“She flew the Union Jack. Nothing I could do,” he shuffled his feet and shrugged.

Zayn pulled Ed to the side for a moment. “What we’re trying to say is that in Niall-speak, he just said ‘I love you.’” Ed grinned hugely, winked, and walked over to Niall, picking him up, twirling him, and then smacking a big kiss on his cheek and setting him back down.

“Want to get another pint, Niall? My treat!” Ed had insisted on starting to pay rent and treating Niall to Nando’s and beer since he had started working at an ice cream shop and playing small gigs on the weekends.

Niall started Irish-jigging his way to the bar, and Zayn laughed.

“Was that an Ed-speak proposal?” Liam quipped, and Zayn laughed even harder, nuzzling into Liam’s neck as he pulled him closer and they began swaying to the beat again. He caught himself smiling a lot, these days. “Anyway, why is Harry being extra-insane tonight?”

Zayn looked up just as Harry pulled Louis in even closer, until not even air separated them, and growled at a dangerous-looking boy who had made the mistake of looking appraisingly at Louis. Louis’s hand shot up and pulled soothingly at Harry’s curls and he stood on his tip-toes to whisper in Harry’s ear until he relaxed, resting his chin on the top of Louis’s hair after one last “Humph.” He looked like a pissed-off teddy bear. “I think it has to do with Louis telling Harry – like now he has more of a claim on him, or something?”

“Should we talk to him about it?” A crinkle had formed between Liam’s trademark “concerned eyebrows.” Zayn grinned. Liam had taken to being very protective of Louis, and he knew a large part of it was because Liam knew how important he was to Zayn.

“Maybe later. For right now, Louis’s enjoying it, I think.” He watched Louis smile into Harry’s shoulder, cheeks flushed red and blue eyes sparkling with intoxication and attention.

“I don’t understand them at all,” Liam sighed, his forehead furrowing.

“Me neither, I never have, but there’s always been something about the way they revolve around each other.”

“Shit.”

Zayn startled at Liam’s harsh tone and turned. The large guy from earlier had somehow managed to wedge his way between Harry and Louis and was whispering in Louis’s ear, much to Harry’s consternation. He looked like he was about to boil over, and Liam took Zayn’s hand and started to pull him towards the group without saying another word.

And maybe this wasn’t the time for it, but Zayn thought that he might really, really love Liam.

Niall was trying to get Harry to stand down by the time the two boys reached them. Louis, though, Louis was the interesting part of this. Instead of taking his usual “I have eyes for no one but Harry” stance, he was actively flirting with the other bloke, wrinkling his nose adorably at something he said and resting a hand on his forearm.

Finally, he nodded eagerly, walking over to the bar with the man, who clearly and loudly yelled “Bodyshot” to the bartender.

Louis quickly whipped his shirt over his head, revealing a large quantity of tan, smooth skin stretched over a curvy, well-muscled torso.

 _Well_. Zayn had never seen Harry so still in his entire life. He stared as the man pushed Louis back until he was leaning against the bar, his collarbones jutting enough to capture a shot of tequila, which was poured into the dip. Louis cheekily winked and placed a lime between his lips.

Harry watched. Zayn wasn’t sure he was breathing. The bulky guy licked a stripe down Louis neck and sloppily drank, sucking his skin clean of the alcohol.

Zayn watched the muscles in Harry’s forearm bunch and tense as he squeezed his fingers into a fist.

The man brushed his nose against Louis’s cheek as he took the lime from his teeth. Louis winked at him, put his shirt back on, and walked back to his friends.

“Well, mates, cross that one off my bucket list, yeah?”

Harry shook himself out of a trance and laughed too loudly, throwing his head back to reveal the length of his pale neck. Louis nervously cracked his knuckles. “Nice one, babe. Ready to head back? I’m tired and I’m sure you’re probably a bit sticky after that.”

“Sounds good, love!” HarryandLouis waved goodbye at the remaining boys and left, Harry’s arm securely clasped around Louis’s shoulder, the muscles still tense under his skin.

“Like I said,” Zayn looked at Liam, “they don’t make any sense, but there’s something…” he trailed off as Harry leaned in to kiss Louis’s temple.

“Something there,” Liam finished for him.

“Yeah.”

#

LPOV

Louis spent a lot of time holding his breath.

Harry was – Harry was _perfect_.

 He was uncoordinated, flopping down the football pitch, hordes of love-struck children racing after him and tackling him until he fell dramatically to the ground, squawking like a dying moose and bending his head obligingly so they could tug at his curls.

He was a bed-hog, sprawling out on Louis’s twin mattress as if he was on his California king and wrapping himself around Louis like he was a fluffy down comforter instead of over six feet of _boy_.

He was mothering, insisting on ironing Louis’s jeans, even though they were too tight on Louis’s thighs to show wrinkles. He did all their dishes by hand, even though they had a dishwasher.

He shook the dust from Louis’s mother’s “Kiss the Cook” apron and baked cupcakes twice a week, making Louis try every new flavor and spanning his waist with his huge hands every time Louis tried to tell him he was getting fat.

Harry was annoying and took up too much space and made dirty jokes in front of Louis’s little sisters and flaunted his wealth in spoiling all the Tomlinsons. He forced Louis to study and limited pizza in his diet and could recite every line of _The Little Mermaid_ at will.

Harry was _perfect_.

Louis tried not to take that kind of perfection personally. He tried not to notice that Harry was in _his_ bed every night, never hitting on random girls at school anymore. Whenever he went out, he begged Louis to come with him and then only danced with him, pulling him close enough that they could feel each others’ lungs expand with air. Louis tried to pretend he didn’t like to go out.

Louis tried to do a lot of things. He tried to be cautious, tried to give Harry space, tried to keep a piece of himself back, for sanity’s sake. Louis failed, desperately.

But he wondered what other option he had. Was there a boy alive who could resist  Harry Styles when he was in his bed, barely clothed, or making fattening baked goods in his family’s kitchen, a smear of flour across his cheek, or sweaty and angry, literally fighting the world, just for not liking him?

And Harry was doing so _well_.

He seemed happier. He had a drawer in Louis’s dresser, so he never needed to walk by the drawer in his bathroom, with a razor blade Harry didn’t think Louis knew about. He rarely had nightmares anymore, but when he did, he mumbled them into Louis’s neck, sleepy and warm and surrounded by Louis’s vanilla shampoo smell.

Louis felt, sometimes, like he was saving Harry.

Maybe he started taking it all for granted. Maybe feeling like Harry’s world revolved around Louis, just like Louis’s revolved around Harry, spoiled him. Maybe he had started to feel too safe. Maybe he started thinking he deserved Harry.

Still, Louis was pretty certain he didn’t deserve what he saw between second and third period.

Harry was leaning back against a bank of lockers, his pupils blown wide and dark by whatever a pretty brunette was whispering in his ear, her body pressed against him.

Louis saw red. He didn’t think, just stormed over to them, his fists clenching as the girl slipped a scrap of paper into Harry’s pocket.

“Don’t you think it’s a little desperate?” He snapped, leaning his hip against the lockers.

“What?” the girl asked, obviously shocked.

“The whole ‘pressing a guy up against a locker, whispering in his ear, and groping him in front of everyone’ tactic. Don’t you think it’s a little desperate?” he cocked his head, as if he were genuinely interested in her answer, instead of counting the number of places she was still touching Harry’s bare skin.

“Well, he didn’t seem to mind.” She flicked her hair back and smiled at Harry, her smile fading when she saw that he was _beaming_ at Louis, not looking at her at all.

“Well, he’s a little weak-willed. And apparently needs his eyesight checked. Maybe you should take it easy on the bronzer, Snooki.” The girl stared at Harry, waiting for him to intervene. He still wasn’t paying attention to her, staring at Louis instead. Louis twiddled his fingers at her, and she walked away, shocked. “And as for you,” Louis dug his fingers into Harry’s pocket, pulling the slip of paper out and dropping it into the nearest rubbish bin. Then, he froze, suddenly afraid to meet Harry’s eyes. _What did I just do?_

“Well, well, well,” Harry finally said. Louis could hear the smirk in his tone of voice. He couldn’t meet his eyes. “Did you just get jealous?” Louis went tomato-red. “I mean, I know you’re in love with me and all, but if you want monogamy, you could at least be taking care of my needs.”

Harry’s tone of voice was teasing, but Louis still recoiled, sudden tears stinging his eyes. Of course he loved Harry. Of course he got jealous. Of course. And he knew he was stupid and he knew he had just interfered in Harry’s sex life and been extremely bitchy to some random girl, but he was not, or at least he had hoped he was not, a _joke_.

“Louis. Lou, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” Harry’s voice faded and it took Louis’s mind far too long to realize it was because he was walking away. He wasn’t paying attention to where he was going, and suddenly ran into someone.

“Lou. Lou? Babe, you okay?” After a few seconds, he registered that the voice belonged to Zayn. He shook his head no, and Zayn swore.

“Fuck, Lou. Who did this to you? C’mere.” He pulled them into their handicapped stall, sat him down on the toilet, and waited.

“H-Harry. He’s been so good, and I thought it was going to be okay, yeah? But h-he still likes girls and he doesn’t want me. And h-he thought it was funny when I got jealous. And he made fun of me and it was in the hall in front of everybody.”

“Fuck,” Zayn said, digging his nails into the palm of his hand. “Fuck, Lou. What exactly did he say?”

“He asked me if I had gotten jealous when some girl threw herself at him. And then he said ‘I know you’re in love with me, but you could at least take care of my needs’ or something along those lines.”

“Fuck. Fuck. No he didn’t. Please tell me he didn’t say that.”

“No,” Louis hiccoughed on a sob, “No, he definitely did.”

“Oh, god. Lou,” Zayn wrapped his arms around Louis, “Babe, you have to know he didn’t mean it.”

“He said it, though,” Louis said, practically hyperventilating. “Jesus fucking Christ, Zayn! What am I supposed to do? We fall apart without each other. I need him and he needs me. But he doesn’t want me, never gonna want me. And I’m always going to love him and it’s always going to be like this. Tell me what to do?”

The bell rang.

“You’re going to let me walk you to your next class. You’re going to breathe and nod and smile until you get home. And then we’re going to figure this out. Because you can’t live like this, Lou. You deserve better than this.”

Louis nodded and allowed Zayn to pull him to the sink and wipe his face. Then he started towards his classroom, Zayn pep-talking all the way.

“Babe, you’re perfect and wonderful and smart and talented and funny and gorgeous, and we’re not going to let your first love ruin you. You’re too strong for that.”

“I have this class with him, Zayn. I don’t think I can do this.”

Zayn shushed him, crowding into his space like he’d seen Harry do and trying to take the edge off of what was rapidly becoming a panic attack.

“Please stay with me, babe,” Zayn said, cupping Louis’s face in his hands and kissing his forehead. “Please, please.”

“Sorry, Zayn. I c-can’t. I think I’m going to puke.” Louis couldn’t slow his breathing.

“Come on, Lou. Come on, babe. You don’t need him. And I know that’s not what you want to hear right now, but you’ve got friends like me who love you and you don’t need Harry Styles.”

Louis shook his head frantically. “No, no. I need to go home.” Then, he took off, running full-tilt towards the parking lot and thinking he had never felt so awful in his entire life. Zayn sighed and watched him go.

Neither of the boys saw Harry just feet away, breathing heavily and trying not to cry, a murderous expression on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, it's always darkest before the dawn, or summat. Don't kill us. Please.


	15. Harry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DON'T THINK YOU'LL HATE US AS MUCH

An intense, all-consuming torrent of fiery rage had taken hold of Harry’s body. It lapped at his skin and tinted his vision red, making it all but impossible for him to discern where his body ended and the inferno that he imagined was blazing around him began. He watched as the two familiar boys, one with his arm around the other, made their way to the corner of the hallway and then separated.

 

Harry took a step forward. His eyes bore straight ahead and everything in his peripherals melted together into one large, burning mass. He watched as the dark-haired boy with the annoyingly elegant cheekbones turned left, disappearing around the corner. Harry sprinted after him without even a moment’s hesitation. As he ran, he could hear the flames relentlessly hissing the same two words over and over: _Zayn Malik_.

 

Harry didn’t slow down when he reached Zayn and, instead, merely lifted the other boy by the front of his neatly pressed tee and slammed him back against his locker.

 

“Who the FUCK do you think you are?” Harry spat, his mouth tasting unbearably bitter.

 

Zayn lifted one eyebrow into a perfect arch. “Would you care to explain what you mean? Because I could point out the obvious and tell you that I think I’m Zayn Malik, but something tells me that that is not the answer for which you are looking.”

 

Zayn’s bored, unimpressed tone was almost more than Harry could stand.

 

“LOUIS. LOUIS IS WHAT I FUCKING MEAN. How DARE you tell him that he doesn’t need me! Who the hell are you to make that kind of a judgment call?”

 

“I’m his best friend, you idiot!” Zayn’s eyes were glittering with anger. “Well besides you, anyway. But seeing as you can’t go ten seconds without ripping that boy’s heart right out of his chest and making it your little plaything, I figured it was up to me to clean up the mess and comfort him. You know, like a _good friend._ ”

 

Harry’s grip tightened in Zayn’s shirt. “Yeah, OKAY. You didn’t look like you were very interested in being his ‘friend.’ I saw the way you were FUCKING touching him! It seems to me like someone moved on from Liam pretty damn fast.”

 

He watched as Zayn sucked in a sharp breath. “Don’t you dare talk about Liam and I. I know that you’re upset, Harry, but don’t you FUCKING dare. I don’t really expect you to understand, but I care about Liam. Really _care_ about him. And I wouldn’t dream of messing up my chance to be with him one day, not even for someone as wonderful as Lou.”

 

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “Recite the third boybandment, then.”

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Zayn coughed out in what could only be exasperation.

"Just do it, Malik." Harry growled. Zayn responded with a glare that, under other circumstances, probably could have reduced Harry to a smoking pile of ashes on the floor.

 

"Fine." He said after a moment. "Boybandment number three: Zayn is never, under any circumstances, ever, ever, ever allowed to shag any other member of the boyband. Satisfied?"

 

Harry gave a brief nod and then placed Zayn not so gently back on the ground. "Just make sure you abide by the boybandments; they're _sacred_."

 

Zayn's subsequent eye roll was impossible to miss. "Harry, might I point out that the boybandments don't say anything about YOU having sex with Louis? So really, there isn’t any reason for you to be jealous of how close I am to Louis because it will never be as close as you are allowed to get, if you catch my meaning…" His wiggling eyebrows made it very clear as to what exactly he was insinuating.

 

Though he had already prepared a witty retort, all of Harry’s words tangled together and came out in one spluttering cough. The fire that had previously consumed him died down into two smoldering embers, one in each cheek. Harry diverted his gaze.

 

“What are you talking about?” He finally whispered.

 

Zayn groaned. “You IDIOT. Okay, Harry. Let me break this down for you. Louis is in love with you. Wholeheartedly, earth-shatteringly in LOVE WITH YOU. You know this. But you still treat Louis as if he will always come second to one of your many, _many_ one night stands despite the fact that not one of those girls will ever become even half the person that Louis is right now. So, in summary, you are killing your best friend.”

 

Harry took a small step forward, ready to live up to his reputation as the boxer but was brought up short by Zayn freaking Malik giving him the hand.

 

“Oh no you don’t.” Zayn said, his voice positively dripping with sass. “Listen. I don’t know how you feel about Lou, Harry. Hell, I don’t even think _you_ know how you feel about Lou. Regardless, you need to make a choice. You either need to be with him, _completely_ with him, or you need to leave. Otherwise, and you need to really get this into your thick skull, Louis _will not survive_.”

 

Harry furrowed his brow. He opened his mouth to respond, but was again stopped by the fucking hand.

 

“No. Don’t speak, do. Louis is on his way home now because he ‘doesn’t feel well.’ For the love of God, go talk to him Harry. Right fucking now.”

 

Harry turned around so quickly that he almost went sprawling face first onto the linoleum. Somehow, though, he managed to keep his balance and propel himself towards the parking lot as fast as his legs could carry him.

 

*

 

“Lou! LOU!” Harry panted as he reached the smaller boy, his best friend in the entire world, as he was about to get into his car (having driven himself to school this morning).

 

He watched as Louis’s eyes lit up briefly before becoming flat and devoid of life. “What is it, Harry? I’m not feeling very well.”

 

The words started rushing out of his mouth. “I’m so sorry, Lou. FUCK, I’m sorry. What I said earlier was way out of line. I know you care me and I shouldn’t have made a joke out of it, hell I shouldn’t have done a lot of things. But I’m here now and I’m so _sorry_ and you can’t leave me, Lou. You just can’t. Because a world without you in it isn’t a world that I can bear to live in so please, _please_ just forgive me.” Harry would have continued, but the need for oxygen rendered him temporarily silent.

 

Louis took advantage of Harry’s need to breathe and started spewing out words himself. “No, Hazza. I’m _sorry_. I shouldn’t love you, but I do and that’s just the way it is. I knew what was happening for a long time now and I should have stopped it but, Christ, I just couldn’t. It’s as if every time I try to push you away you just burrow deeper into my skin and it’s killing me and I’m so fucking sorry that I’m ruining everything we have…”

 

He couldn’t take it anymore. Hearing Louis, _his_ Louis hurting like this because of him was too much; he needed to do something. His hands shaking, he reached over and pulled Louis towards him. Slowly, he reached a finger down and tilted the other boy’s chin upward.

 

“Haz, I really am sorry…”

 

Harry cut Louis off with a kiss. It was a soft, slow, and incredibly clumsy kiss, but even still Harry could feel his blood begin to rush faster in his veins as the faint taste of vanilla and soft, _soft_ lips invaded his senses. He moved to deepen the kiss and was startled to find that Louis was pulling away from him.

 

“Lou…”

 

“No. Please, no. You don’t have to do this to make me feel better, Haz. I can only take so much without going fucking _insane_ and please, just no.” Harry watched in horror as one, solitary tear began weaving its way down the side of Louis’s face.

 

He reached out and brushed it away, letting his hand linger to brush soothing circles in Louis’s skin. “God, Lou.” He said, moving closer. “It isn’t like that. You can take everything, you can have all of me, just please please _please_.”

 

The next thing Harry knew, Louis’s hands were bunched in the front of his shirt and their lips were crashing together like two scorching tidal waves of desire. Harry knew he should care that they were making out in the school parking lot, but all he could focus on were Louis’s _lips._ They were hot and insistent, melding with his own in a perpetual tango that robbed Harry of his breath and left him convinced that his lips were actually on fire. The burning only served to propel Harry forward. He wanted, no _needed_ to get closer to Louis, to force himself so far into the other boy’s skin that he would always be with him.

 

At some point, Louis’s legs snaked around his waist and Harry was pressing the smaller boy down against the hood of the car. He could feel strong hands tugging at his curly locks and lifted his head only to gasp in pleasure as Louis’s mouth clamped down on his neck. It was all he could do to hold himself above Louis as he began sucking a necklace of large, dark marks across Harry’s neck.

 

“You’re mine now, no one else’s.” Louis muttered savagely in between kisses.

 

“Oh God, yes. Yours, yours, _yours_.” Harry moaned automatically, unable to deny even for a second that he was now branded to Louis for life. “Please never leave me.” Harry knew he sounded desperate, and was surprised to hear, or rather feel, Louis laugh against his neck.

 

 

The other boy framed Harry’s face with his hands and looked up at him. “Don’t you understand how much I love you, you _ass_. I can’t sleep without you and my sisters call you Uncle Harry and I will _never leave you._ ”

 

Harry tried to pull Louis tighter against him. He bent his head down and captured Louis’s mouth in one last, soft embrace.

 

After finishing what turned out to be a much longer kiss than he had planned, Harry stood up and grinned with satisfaction at the sight of Louis splayed out on the hood of the car.

 

“So, uh, we should probably move this to a more… private location, yeah? Preferably before someone actually sees us ravaging one another like wild animals in the school parking lot.”

 

Louis grinned and rolled off of the hood. “I suppose you’re right, Haz. I wouldn’t want other guys getting any ideas about taking off with my man.” Louis strode over to the taller boy and pushed his hands up beneath his black tee. Harry suppressed a moan as small, strong hands stroked their way up his abdomen and then lightly scratched their way back down to his belt.

 

“Okay, maybe we can stay for just a couple more minutes.” Harry growled. He wrapped his long arms around Louis’s torso and pulled the smaller boy closer. His heart jolted as Louis snuggled up against him and rested his head in the crook of his neck. Harry leaned down and buried his face in Louis’s hair, relishing in the blissfully familiar scent of vanilla.

 

“Mine.” He whispered and, knowing that Louis was now truly _his_ Harry realized that he had never been happier in his entire life.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE LEAVE YOUR INCOHERENT RESPONSES TO CODY'S MAKE OUT SCENE, BECAUSE HOLY SHIT.


	16. Louis/Zayn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's mine. Thanks for all your support! We have 5,000 hits!

Chapter 16

Harry was holding his hand. Louis kept staring at their fingers, interlocked and intertwined, Harry’s pale thumb rubbing circles against Louis’s darker skin. Something about them looked right, Harry’s huge hand wrapped around his small one, his tattoos contrasting with Louis’s unmarred skin.

Harry caught Louis looking and grinned, humming the tune that had been playing ad nauseam on the radio the past couple of days.

Louis laughed and sang along “‘Your hand fits in mine like it’s made just for me, but bare this in mind, it was made to be.’ Jesus, Styles. You turning into a sap on me?”

Harry blushed, then turned his head and carefully brushed his lips along Louis’s cheekbone. He rested his forehead against Louis’s temple and quietly murmured in Louis’s ear, “Yeah, yeah I think I am.”

Louis rolled his eyes, but couldn’t repress his wide smile or his answering blush.

Louis had never been so happy in his entire life. His skin felt tight, almost like he couldn’t contain it all and he could hardly breathe, but it was a good kind of suffocation.

They crossed the parking lot and walked back into the school. It was almost time for lunch and Louis was equally nervous and excited to see the reaction to their new relationship. Or whatever it was. Shit. What was it? Some of the happiness drained from him and Louis sighed quietly.

But Harry had been, as always, listening to Louis’s sounds and watching his expressive face with a kind of devoted fascination. When he heard Louis sigh and watched his face fall, he immediately asked, “Babe, what’s wrong? No boyfriend of mine is allowed to look that sad,”

Louis’s face practically exploded, light shining from it. _Can people glow?_ Harry looked on in awe.

Louis reacted without thinking, immediately gripping the back of Harry’s neck and pulling him into a heated kiss. When he finally pulled back, Harry’s face was flushed, his pupils blown, lips red and swollen, and his hair mussed. He looked completely and thoroughly kissed, Louis noted with satisfaction.

“What… I mean, not that I’m complaining… but what was that for? So I can do it all the fucking time?”

Louis giggled softly, “You called me your boyfriend, you dunce.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Oh shit I didn’t even ask you properly, did I? Um… so you don’t mind?”

“Sorry, was me snogging the life out of you too subtle?” Louis smiled impishly, his eyes crinkling at the corners before his face became slightly more serious. “You don’t have to ask. I’ve belonged to you as long as I can remember. Now, it’s just official.”

Harry couldn’t hold back at that, and the older boy was suddenly pinned against the headmaster’s car while he rained kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, his chin, his nose. He hovered his mouth over Louis’s, holding his arms against the car so he couldn’t push his own lips against Harry’s. Louis whined and Harry pressed in, his lips slotting between Louis's, his feet between a smaller pair. He eventually pulled away, eyes still closed, before pecking Louis one more time in a short, chaste kiss. He opened them lazily and Louis almost whimpered at the dark shade of green.

Harry held his finger up. “Wait. I had a snarky comment or something that I was going to say, but I can’t hear myself think over the head rush. Is it always going to be like this? Because I’m going to have to break out my inhaler at some point. Oh, right. ‘Who’s the sap now?’ That was the comeback.” He blinked slowly at Louis, and the older boy couldn’t help but shake his head at the boy in front of him, who was simultaneously a four-year-old dork and the hottest thing he had ever seen.

He eventually shook off his Harry-daze and punched the taller boy gently on the shoulder. “Shut up, you caveman. You just snogged me against the headmaster’s car. The least you can do is be polite about it.”

Harry gasped and clasped his hands over his heart. “Boobear! You wound me.” Louis scoffed and pulled one of his ridiculous paws from his chest, wrapping his own, much smaller, hand around it. He was ready to show off his new _boyfriend_.

Harry insisted on carrying their books, juggling them so he had a free hand to wrap around Louis’s possessively as they entered the cafeteria.

The room eerily silent, every pair of eyes fastened on the two boys.

Louis began to panic, tensing ender Harry’s touch, and Harry’s eyes narrowed, his hand going white-knuckled around the binding of the books.

He turned his head, burying his lips in Louis’s soft hair, the movement completely natural. “Just breathe, babe. They don’t matter.”

About that time, Niall turned away from his intense perusal of possible lunches. “Why is everyone so quiet?” he asked Zayn, who was grinning manically at something. Niall followed his gaze just in time to see Harry kiss Louis’s temple, one of his hands interwoven tightly with Louis’s.

Niall promptly dropped his tray, whooped, and began to do some strange combination of an Irish jig and the running man. The other students began to stare at him, and not the two boys who had curled into each other in the wake of their silent criticism. Harry flashed him a grateful smile and sat at their table.

Niall’s dancing rapidly devolved into twerking and Zayn grabbed his arm. “Dude. No. Too far.” Niall shrugged, throwing some pizza, a burger, chips, a shepherd’s pie, and two pieces of cake on his tray and going to join the rest of his friends.

Louis was laughing, Harry’s foot hooked around his ankle, and Niall thought he had never seen him looking so young or happy, like he had never been hurt before.

Harry went to get them lunch and Zayn and Niall pounced on Louis as soon as he was out of earshot.

“So?!” Zayn squealed and then cleared his throat, deepening his voice by a few octave before continuing, “What happened??”

Niall chimed in, “Did he kiss you?” his mouth stuffed with chips.

Louis shuddered, “Don’t speak with your mouth full, love.”

Zayn shrieked, “This is not the time for manners, Lou. WHAT HAPPENED?”

Louis broke into a grin. “He did kiss me. Lots. But I guess he’s allowed to do that. You know, since he’s my _boyfriend_ and all.”

Niall threw his hands up, throwing his pizza crust halfway across the cafeteria and hitting some poor, unsuspecting freshman in the head. “Thank you! Fucking yes! I would like to thank God, Jesus, and Santa Claus for this.”

Zayn rolled his eyes at the display, but chucked Louis under the chin. “I’m so happy for you both, babe.”

Harry grinned as he slid into the seat next to Louis, kissing him on the cheek.

“Sorry about earlier, mate,” Harry said to Zayn, pushing strands of hair out of his eyes anxiously.

Zayn smirked. “Nah, it’s fine, you prick. It forced you to get a move on, anyway.”

Louis looked between the two boys. “What are you talking about?”

Harry swore under his breath. “Well, um, I heard you and Zayn talking before and, um, it sort of sounded like he was trying to replace me. And yeah, I maybe went a bit mad.”

Louis laughed. “You’re such a possessive asshole, Styles.”

Harry released a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. “So, you’re not angry?”

Louis giggled flirtatiously. “Maybe I’ll just have to punish you later,” he teased, waggling his eyebrows.

Harry turned a shade of red Louis hadn’t known he was capable of, but Louis noticed with pleasure that his pupils were dilated and he was breathing unevenly. “Promise?” he teased back.

“Great. They finally get together and the sexual tension actually gets worse instead of better,” Zayn sighed and tugged his hands through his hair.

“I’m totally into this,” Niall said. “Can I help you film your first sex tape?”

“So inappropriate,” Harry groaned, burying his face in Louis’s neck. “Why do we hang out with these twats?”

“Because we like their boyfriends?” Louis suggested.

The other two boys both lit up, even as Niall kicked Louis under the table and Zayn muttered “Not officially” and threw one of Niall’s chips at Harry’s face.

“WE DON’T WASTE FOOD,” Niall threw himself across the table, picked the chip up, and shoved it into his mouth. “Jesus. Is nothing sacred anymore?”

“Considering you just offered to film us having sex, I’m going to have to go with ‘no,’” Louis quipped. And _yeah_ , Louis thought, _yeah this is what it feels like to be happy._

#

Lottie and Fizz were settled at the kitchen table doing homework, and Phoebe and Daisy were happily cuddled together on the couch in front of the TV, eating the organic snacks Harry baked every Friday.

“Proper domestic, aren’t we,” said Harry as Louis dragged him up the stairs to their room.

As soon as they closed the door and locked it, Harry was pressed against it, Louis grazing his teeth against Harry’s collarbones.

“Jesus, Lou,” Harry breathed, scraping his blunt nails against Louis’s scalp and pulling him up for a kiss.

The two boys stumbled to the bed, flopping onto it in a tangle of limbs, mouths not disconnected for even an instant.

Finally, they ran out of breath and Harry sucked marks against Louis’s throat, both breathing heavily.

“God, Harry,” Louis moaned as Harry found a particularly sensitive spot, grinding down on him. Harry gasped and pulled away.

He pulled away.

Pulled.

Away.

Louis almost stopped breathing altogether, all sense of arousal suddenly gone.

“Oh,” Louis turned away from Harry, on his side in their small bed, wishing it was bigger and trying not to cry.

“No, Lou, Jesus, that isn’t it,” Harry immediately nuzzled his face into Louis’s back , cheeks so red that he was surprised Louis couldn’t feel it through the thin cotton of his shirt.

“It’s okay, Harry. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I know you’re still figuring your sexuality out and I get it that you might not be… like… _sexually_ attracted to me…”

“Lou!” Harry cut him off, forcibly rolling him onto his back and pinning him, a large hand on either side of his head. “That’s complete and utter bullshit.  My sexuality is figured out, number one. Sexuality is a fluid thing, and I happen to be attracted to you because you are beautiful and lovely and smart and fucking _hot_ and caring and possibly the most perfect being on this entire fucking planet and that’s it, end of story. And as far as not being attracted to you? If you even knew how often I think about you in a _very_ sexual way, and how long of thought of you like that, you’d probably be freaked out. Remember the dream I had that one time?”

Louis nodded sullenly.

“It was about _you_ , idiot.”

Louis blinked. “Really?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Lou,” Harry rolled off of him onto his back, and covered his face with is hands. “I buy lotion that smells like you.”

“What?”

“I BUY LOTION THAT SMELLS LIKE YOU TO GET MYSELF OFF, OKAY?”

Louis giggled at Harry’s embarrassment, trying to ignore how hot that image was. “I will be using that for blackmail later, love. But help me understand, then. What’s wrong? Why’d you pull away?”

Harry buried his face in the softness of Louis’s stomach and Louis felt and heard what followed simultaneously. “I’ve never slept with someone I was in love with before.”

Louis sat up quickly and cupped Harry’s face in his hands when he tried to duck away, cheeks aflame. “Harry,” he breathed, awe coloring his tone, “Harry, you love me?” Harry closed his eyes, unable to meet Louis’s, and nodded.

“Since when?” Louis flopped back on the bed, his face a contradiction in emotions, not sure whether he was confused or happy or so happy his confusion didn’t matter.

“It was never really a matter of falling, it was just a matter of _noticing,_ really. Like I always wanted to be near you and it bothered me when I wasn’t. I studied my arse off to skip two grades, just so we didn’t have to be separated for classes. And then there was the whole noticing-how-pretty-you-are stage, which meant a lot of trying to be naked in front of you as much as possible and wearing baggy pants in case you happened to bend over somewhere near me. And the constant jealousy, wanting to punch anyone who came within ten yards of you. And remember when I went through that weird month where I kept jumping you and leaving love bites on your neck? That was part of that stage too.

“The weird thing is, I don’t think there’s been an instance where any of those stages stopped being a problem. I still want to be as close to you as possible, always. And I still spend at least half of my time just dealing with how blue your eyes get in the summer or the three freckles on your cheek. And in case you haven’t noticed, I still have a bit of a problem thinking that someday you might want someone else to be closer to you than I am. I’m sorry, so freaking sorry that it took Zayn yelling at me for me to figure it out, that I love you, but it’s _always_ been there.”

“Are you sure you aren’t just saying that because you know I love you?”

Harry chuckled “I love it when you say that. But no, the two events – you loving me and me loving you – are completely independent of each other.”

Louis sighed, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he closed his eyes, too overwhelmed to look at Harry. “Say it again?” He could practically _hear_ Harry smile.

“I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you,” Harry repeated dutifully. When Louis opened his eyes, Harry’s face was inches away. Louis pulled him into a slow, soft kiss.

“I love you too, so much,” he said against Harry’s lips. Harry shivered, cuddling into Louis and sighing contentedly. They fell into a comfortable silence, but Louis’s mind was still turning over everything Harry had said.

“But, Harry, you’ve been in love dozens of times!” he suddenly blurted. Harry shook his head, his curls tickling Louis’s neck, where he was tucked under his chin. “There’s a big difference between being in love and wanting to be loved. With you, it’s always been both. With them it was only ever the second. It took me awhile to figure that out.”

“I love you,” Louis replied quietly, sure it was the only thing he could say to express any of what he was feeling.

“I love you too. So that’s why…” Harry tugged at his hair. “That’s why I think we should wait.” Louis started to protest, but Harry held a hand up, “I know, I know. You don’t want to. I don’t really want to either, but I don’t even understand the way my body works when I’m around you yet. I mean, literally just kissing you is overwhelming and everything’s more intense and – what if I hurt you? Besides, this is a real relationship. And I know we’ve been friends for ages and in love with each other just as long, but we need to get to know each other this way first. I don’t want to hurt what we have. It means too much.”

Louis sighed. “I’m going to work really hard to convince you to sleep with me, you know.”

“Are you trying to out-seduce the master of seduction, Lou?” Harry grinned.

“I’ll take that as a challenge,” Louis responded mischievously before diving for Harry’s mouth and kissing him hard.

Just then, the doorknob jiggled.

“Guyssss,” Lottie whines. “I’m hungry. Can Uncle Harry make dinner now?”

Louis groaned. “Proper domestic, yeah?” Harry chuckled, but it gave Louis an idea. “Hey Lottie?”

“Yeah?”

“Harry just told me he’s in love with me.”

A strangled yelp sounded from the other side of the door.

“Take your time, boys! I can make dinner tonight!”

That got them out of bed quickly.

“NO. YOUNG LADY, YOU WILL DO NO SUCH THING.”

“Lottie Tomlinson, do not touch the stove or I will be adding you to the fry up.”

Louis giggled, kissing his boyfriend on the cheek. “I love you.”

Harry stroked a hand through his fringe. “I love you too, Boobear. Now let’s go save the kitchen. Not that you’ll be of any help. Are all Tomlinsons this bad at cooking?”

Louis rolled his eyes. “Very funny, Styles. We’ll just see how you feel about cooking when I withhold dessert.” He waggled his eyebrows and skipped away, a wide grin splitting his face as soon as his back was to Harry.

“Wait. Wait, Lou! Was that a euphemism? Louuuuuu!”

#

Zayn’s hair was a mess. A mess. Without product, it hung limply in his eyes like a black spider web he couldn’t brush away. His jeans had holes in the knees. His hands were shaking. He rang the doorbell twice in quick succession, then a third time for added measure.

“Zayn?” The door to Liam’s flat opened. “Babe, are you okay? Come in, quick.” He shoved Zayn onto his couch and started bustling around, draping a blanket around his shoulders and straightening his already-spotless home.

“Li?” He kept fidgeting. “Liam??”

Liam stopped and turned.

“Will you go on a date with me?”

End chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love you guys :)


	17. Harry/Ed/Liam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys keep asking about our tumblrs! Cody's a lazy BUM, so I run them, but here they are:
> 
> http://fanficrecommendations.tumblr.com/ -- our fic recs  
> http://onedirectionrody.tumblr.com/ -- our fic  
> http://iwaswhoiam.tumblr.com/ -- Raven's personal  
> http://wedidntplanforthis.tumblr.com/ -- our 1D freakouts
> 
> Enjoy Cody's lovely chapter!! AND PLEASE FEEL FREE TO TELL HIM TO STOP PLAYING BEJEWELED AND YELLING ABOUT DEMON HIPPOS. BECAUSE IT'S WEIRD.

Harry

 

Harry was going _infuckingsane_. He hadn’t realized that it was possible for a person to be so overcome by desire that his entire body actually burned with need but here he was, lying on Louis’s bed, too uhh… stirred up to even think about moving. Again.

 

Harry groaned and then groaned again when he realized that even the sound of his own pained voice reminded him of how Louis had been spreading his legs apart just moments before, the other boy’s more than prominent arousal teasing Harry in ways he hadn’t even known he had wanted to be teased. They hadn’t even taken their clothes off and he had been at the wicked whim of Louis Tomlinson, dammit!

 

He forced his eyes shut in an effort to calm his raging imagination. They had agreed that they would take things slow, that they would hold back on the sexual stuff until they were both absolutely positive that it was the right time. Harry knew that it was the right thing to do, but when Louis Tomlinson is on top of you, lean muscles and satin smooth skin, insisting with his body that your clothes are now fucking obsolete, waiting was _hard._ Kind of like he was at the moment, now that you mention… _bad Harry!_

 

In one quick motion, Harry jumped out of bed and strode to the kitchen. If he couldn’t will the images of Louis pressed up against him away, then he would distract himself. He made his way to the refrigerator, determined to prepare a meal that Louis would actually eat, and was brought up short by a small, lime green post-it note plastered to its smooth surface. _Mom is working late again, went to pick up the girls. Be back in a few hours. Love, Boobear._

 

Harry frowned. As of late, Louis had been stretched to the breaking point. Due to some problems at the hospital, Louis’s mom had been working even more hours than usual, though how that was possible Harry wasn’t exactly sure. In addition, being the end of the school year, Louis’s coursework (as well as his own) had all but doubled. Consequently, even though they were living together, Harry was never with Louis for more than a few consecutive minutes. Though this lack of time together did result in some incredibly hot make-out sessions (and helped with the whole, you know, _waiting_ thing), he missed his Boobear. A lot.

 

Harry let out a long breath. There was one way that he could try to lessen Louis’s burden, to give him the extra time he needed to properly take care of himself. He reached a shaking hand into his pocket and took out his keys. Moving towards the door, Harry braced himself. It was time he paid a visit to the one person who could possibly help Louis.

 

Ed

 

Ed awoke to the singing of some bird that he immediately decided needed to be taken down a notch or two by a ruthless stray cat. Too annoyed to go back to sleep, he let out a long, defeated yawn and stretched out his legs.

 

Feeling more than a tad malicious, he crawled over to where Niall was lying, still sound asleep, beside him. He bent his head down towards the other boy’s and grazed his teeth against Niall’s right ear. Nothing.

 

Ed rolled his eyes. He nibbled not so gently on Niall’s ear and began to trail long, lingering kisses down his jaw line. By the time he reached the other boy’s mouth, Niall’s baby blue eyes were wide open.

 

“Well that’s one hell of a way to wake up.” Niall said in a sleepy, Irish drawl. “Looking for a repeat of last night are we?” And yep, he was waggling his eyebrows.

 

Ed granted him one chaste kiss on the lips and then collapsed beside him.

 

“You’ve gone and ruined the mood, now!” He said, his voice strained by laughter.

 

“Who, me? That’s ridiculous.” Before he could even think to respond, Niall was on top of him, pinning his shoulders to the bed.

 

“I… stand corrected.” he grinned and lifted his head in an attempt to reach Niall’s mouth.

 

Niall brought his head down slowly and stopped with his lips just centimeters from Ed’s. “Can I help you with something?”

 

Ed nodded innocently and strained to close the distance between them. “Pretty please?”

 

Niall let out a noise that sounded something like a mix between a laugh and a growl and then Ed felt soft lips brushing gently against his own. He sighed.

 

“So, where should we go for our first lunch today?” Niall asked after pulling away. “I’m starving and it’s my treat.”

 

“Oh, umm, actually… I can’t do lunch today. I have somewhere that I need to be.” He turned his head sideways, avoiding Niall’s gaze.

 

“Really? Where?” The other boy’s voice was gentle, not accusing in the least.

 

“I just have to run an errand. It shouldn’t take too long, but I need to do it today before it’s too late.” He continued to avoid Niall’s gaze.

 

“Ed.” He felt Niall’s finger on his chin, forcing him to make eye contact. “What’s wrong, babe?”

 

“Nothing.” He groaned. “It’s just, I’ve managed to save up a lot of money since moving in with you and now I have enough to afford my own place. So, I was going to go look at apartments this afternoon…”

 

“ _What?_ ” The pain in Niall’s voice was evident. “You… you’re moving out? Why? I… I thought we were… I thought you would… what?”

 

Ed felt as if someone had punched him in the chest. “No, we are! It isn’t like that, love, I just thought it might be good if I got my own place, you know…”

 

Niall cut him off. “No, I don’t know!” Ed watched as the other boy jumped off the bed and stalked into the adjoining bathroom.

 

“Niall! Please, stop! Can’t we at least talk about this?” Ed tried to make his way into the bathroom, but had to jump back when the door came slamming shut in his face.

 

“What’s there to talk about!? Clearly you don’t want to stay here, to stay with me, so you might as well just go.”

 

Ed was panicked. “Niall, _please._ ” He pressed his forehead against the door and fought back tears. This was not how he had wanted this conversation to go. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about Niall. I mean, hell, even though he hadn’t yet said the words out loud he was beginning to think that he was _in love_ with him. But their whole relationship had entailed Niall taking care of him, Niall spending money on _him_. Now that he had the money he needed to support himself he couldn’t let things continue to be so one-sided; it just wasn’t fair. But ending their relationship? That wasn’t what he wanted at all.

 

“ _Please_.” He whispered again, but was answered only by silence.

 

Liam

 

Being blindfolded definitely wasn’t what Liam had expected when he had agreed to go on this date with Zayn. The other boy had showed up at his apartment this morning, the purple satin monstrosity in tow, and insisted that Liam put it on. Though he said no at first, the kicked puppy look that Zayn had given him had crumbled his resolve entirely. Which was unfair, really, because _he_ was supposed to be the cute one, not Zayn.

 

“Trust me, the surprise will be worth it.” Zayn whispered for the thousandth time, though by now Liam was beginning to question exactly who Zayn was trying to comfort.

 

Liam squeezed the soft hand that was now guiding him through what he guessed was a maze of cool, dim rooms. “I know it will be.” He whispered.

 

After another minute or so of walking, Zayn stopped. “We’re here.” He whispered. Liam could feel the other boy’s hand shaking.

 

Holding his breath, he reached up and pulled off the blindfold. Liam took a step back and for a moment couldn’t remember how to exhale.

 

“Li…you okay? You’re turning blue?” Zayn said in a panicked tone. “It’s okay if you don’t like it, we can go somewhere else. Actually this was stupid, I should have known that you wouldn’t like it. Come on, we’ll go somewhere nicer…” He began to tug on Liam’s right hand.

 

Liam tugged back and pulled Zayn into a giant hug. “It’s perfect.” He whispered before burying his face in the crook of Zayn’s neck.

 

They were in an aquarium. The room around them glowed and glittered with the dim light that was refracted by the water in the tanks that occupied each wall. Directly in front of them, situated near the largest tank, was a wooden table covered in a white tablecloth.

 

The table was lit by a single candle that bathed the area in a sparkling golden light. At each end of the table was a plate covered in a silver lid and a large white chair. Liam took a step forward and then squealed as he noticed the large green figures swimming through the tank nearest their table.

 

“How did you know that I love turtles?” He asked, eyes shining.

 

“I didn’t really.” Zayn said, looking down at his feet. “I noticed you had a turtle coaster in your apartment and kind of went from there…”

 

Liam grabbed Zayn’s hand a squeezed. “Thank you for noticing. This is by far the… the best thing that anyone has ever done for me.” Despite himself, he blushed.

 

Zayn smiled up at him and pulled him over to the table. “Here. Have a seat; you must be starving.” He pulled out Liam’s chair for him before making his way to his own seat across the table.

 

Liam eyed the plate carefully. “What’s for dinner?”

 

Zayn batted his eyelashes. “Something absolutely exquisite that I whipped up myself. I hope you like it.”

 

“But… I thought you couldn’t cook?”

 

“For God’s sake, Liam. Just take off the damn lid.” Zayn was grinning.

  
Liam did as instructed and found himself blushing an even deeper red than before. On his plate lie two slices of pepperoni pizza from Nando’s. Spelled out across the two slices in letters comprised of green skittles was the following question: “boyfriend?”  

 

Liam tried to speak, but all that he could manage to get out were a bunch of sounds that didn’t resemble actual words in the slightest. He watched as Zayn’s face grew paler and paler and finally just jumped out of his seat. Unsure of what else to do, he strode over to Zayn and bent down to capture the other boy’s mouth with his own.

 

The kiss was a soft one, their lips coming together in a gentle caress that left Liam reeling. When he pulled away, the taste of cinnamon on his lips, he knew he was grinning.

 

“Does that, umm, answer your question?” He asked in a hoarse whisper.

 

“Yeah, I think it does.” Zayn flashed him a dorky, for once unrehearsed, smile and in that moment Liam thought he had never looked more beautiful.

 

Harry

 

 

Harry only hesitated a second before knocking on the enormous mahogany door in front of him. After a moment, a low booming baritone responded: “Come in.”

 

He forced himself to stand up straight and then strode into the room, stopping before a large, shining desk made of the same mahogany as the door. The tall, dark haired man seated in front of him was hunched over a pile of papers.

 

“What is it?” He asked without looking up.

 

“Well, gee; it’s good to see you too.” Harry retorted in a thin voice.

 

The man behind the desk abruptly stopped writing and looked up at Harry. He had bright green eyes. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Actually, I have a favor to ask of you, dad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALSO. CHARACTER ASKS, ANYONE???


	18. Louis/Niall/Zayn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor smut ahead!!

“Mmmm.” Louis woke up to the vibration of a contented hum resonating against his earlobe. His mouth turned up into a soft smile as he turned to press his lips against Harry’s. His eyes cracked open and he giggled at the dopey, face-splitting grin the younger boy was sporting.

“Never gonna get tired of waking up like this,” Harry slurred sleepily, carefully rolling on top of Louis to kiss him again. “ _Well_.” He smirked cheekily at Louis. “Good _morning._ ”

Louis looked down and groaned, blushing vividly. “Exactly,” he said defensively. “It’s _morning_. This has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that my incredibly hot and nearly naked boyfriend is on top of me.”

“Love it when you call me that.”

“What? Incredibly hot?”

“Your boyfriend.” He smiled too big again and Louis poked a finger into his dimple. His fingers traced the contour of his cheek, then traveled down the bridge of his nose.

“Boop.”

Harry giggled and brushed their noses together. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” Harry leaned in for a quick kiss, but when he started to pull away, Louis tangled his fingers in his curls and pulled him closer.

Harry’s weakness had always been his hair and he melted into Louis. “Persuasive asshole,” he groaned into Louis’s mouth, closing his teeth over Louis’s bottom lip and tugging. Louis just shivered and tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

Harry rolled his hips into Louis’s, burying his face in his neck to muffle a loud moan when Louis arched against him, then freezing. “Lou,” he said between gritted teeth, his jaw clenched. I only have so much self control. You did that on purpose.”

Louis grinned cheekily and shrugged, not a hint of remorse on his face. “Sorry I’m not sorry, babe. Just get back here and kiss me some more, k?” He tried to pull Harry back in, but he sighed and rolled off, onto his back.

Louis made a growling noise and climbed on top of Harry.

Harry started to laugh, “What are you, a feral kitten? Fuck you’re adorable.” Louis scrunched up his nose and sighed. Harry was going to be an ass about the whole sex thing? Well, fine.

Louis collapsed onto Harry’s chest, knocking the air out of him in an “Oomph.” Harry wrapped his arms around Louis’s waist, and Louis burrowed into him contentedly.

“You know what I was just thinking?” Louis asked after awhile, tracing patterns on Harry’s bicep with his fingertips.

“Hmmm?” Harry’s eyes had begun to slip shut, and he was only half-listening.

“Remember that time you made me watch those shit Twilight movies that one night?”

“Heyyyy we were watching them with your sisters.”

“Harry, they went to bed after the first one. _Which you cried during_ , might I add.”

“I thought we were never speaking of that night again.”

“I was just remembering that one scene where that annoying girl is, like, trying to take off her clothes and have her way with Moody-Mc-Moody-Pants and he’s all ‘I’m protecting your virtue, blah blah blah’ she’s like ‘IDK man I really just want to fuck your glittery vamp penis.’”

Harry giggled “I’m pretty sure that’s not the way the dialogue actually went, love. And it’s Bella and Edward, not annoying girl and Moody-Mc-Moody-Pants.”

Louis waved a hand in the air, “You say to-may-to, I say to-mah-to. Anyway, what I’m trying to ask is where you got the whole ‘I’m going to hurt you/we aren’t ready for this/we should wait’ thing from, Moody-Mc-Moody-Pants.”

Harry groaned. “Oh my god you did not just accuse me of making healthy relationship decisions because I was influenced by Twilight.”

Louis just looked at him pointedly and blinked rapidly, fluttering his eyelashes.  “All I’m saying is that Stephanie Meyer is Mormon and we are currently acting Mormon and maybe we could stop being Mormon sometime soon.”

“We are not being Mormon. We are being protective of each other.”

“Why can’t we just use a condom and call it a day? That’s protection enough.”

“Oh my god, Louis. You are not using Twilight to convince me to have sex with you this morning, while your family is downstairs and I haven’t showered yet. “

“Fine. You need a shower? I need a shower too. And that’s where I’ll be. Waiting for you. And taking care of _this._ ” he gestured to the bulge in his pajama pants.

“That’s not fair. This is inhumane.” Harry rubbed his hands over his face in frustration. Louis winked at him, and then stretched slowly, arching his entire body and throwing his head back. Harry choked on his own spit.

The bathroom door closed behind him.

“Okay. Looks like I’m going to have to do this myself. Loudly. And, you know, naked. In the shower. With water and steam and stuff.  And thinking of you. Just saying”

Harry could hear fabric hit the floor.

“Well. Now I’m naked. You know, we probably should shower together, just for safety reasons. I mean, what if I have a suspicious-looking mole on my asscheek? It could be cancerous. Early detection is everything. You could be saving my naked life right now. But no, you’re sitting there all alone, refusing to make sure I’m going to survive the year.”

Harry groaned and raked his hands through his hair.

“Maybe I should call bodyshot boy and ask him if he can still do the thing with his tongue that he was telling me about…”

“That’s _it_.” Harry tried to pull off his boxers and run towards the door at the same time, almost falling on the ground before he took a deep breath and walked to the door.

The shower started and he stopped for a second just inside the bathroom, listening to the sound of the water droplets hitting Louis’s skin and thinking big thoughts like _This is all I want, forever_.

“Well?” Louis asked from the shower, his voice almost small. “Are you… are you going to come here?”

Harry could hear the hesitation in his tone, the way he was suddenly afraid. He hated that he was making Louis feel like there was a reason for small voices and hesitation and fear. He pulled back the shower curtain.

Louis’s back was to him, the warm water tracing his back in wide streams.

“Babe,” Harry breathed, and Louis turned his head to look at him. “You are so fucking gorgeous.” He moved forward, curling his larger body protectively around Louis’s curves and kissing his shoulder.

“Then why don’t you want me?” Louis’s voice was quiet, barely heard over the water spilling over them.

Harry spun Louis around, his hands on his shoulders. “You really think I don’t want you?” He slowly stroked his hand down Louis’s arm, entwining their fingers and bringing them to his own chest. “Do you feel that?”

Louis’s eyes grew bigger and he nodded. Harry’s heart was pounding against his chest like it was trying to escape.

“You make me scared and nervous and excited and happy. You make me absolutely crazy, Louis Tomlinson. And I never know what to do. I don’t know how any of this works, I don’t know how to keep you safe from all the worst parts of me. But if you think I don’t want you, you are wrong.  I want everything with you. And we’ll get there. Probably sooner rather than later, because for all my Edward Cullen-isms, I don’t have much control at all when it comes to you.”

“Yeah?” Louis was looking up at Harry with pure adoration, and Harry couldn’t resist cupping his jaw in his hand and bringing his mouth closer.

“Yeah.” Harry crashed his lips into Louis’s then, and watched colors explode behind his eyelids. He just wanted to get closer, just wanted to feel more of Louis’s skin, warm and soft and wet under his hands.

He edged forward, pushing Louis into the tile. It was cold, and Louis’s body jolted forward against Harry’s. Both boys gasped at the sudden friction and froze.

“Is… is this okay?” Louis asked Harry shyly, his cheeks flushed and pupils blown.

“Yeah. Yeah s’good. If you’re okay. You okay?” Harry was having trouble stringing words together. All he knew was his fingers digging into Louis’s hips and their bodies fitting together like they were made for it.

“Perfect.” Louis said, grinning bravely up at Harry and grinding into him.

“Fuck.” Harry kissed him again and nudged his hips forward in response.

Louis leaned back against the cool tile, this time glad for the contrast in temperature against his overheated skin. There were worse places to be than sandwiched between Harry Styles and a shower wall.

“Harry,” Louis whined, almost desperately. Rocking against each other the way they were wasn’t providing enough friction for either of them to cum, keeping them on the edge of something more.

“Fuck, I know, Lou. Is it okay if I touch you?”

Louis nodded so emphatically, he bounced his forehead off of Harry’s shoulder.

“Eagar, babe?” Harry asked as his hand wrapped around Louis’s cock and Louis didn’t know what he responded because he’s not sure it was proper English. But he’s sure it translated to something like

“Since I was six and you were three and I stayed with you under the slide for two hours because your mum forgot she left you there and you never cried unless it was into my shoulder so I didn’t change my shirt for a week.”

Yeah. Something like that.

Louis pulled Harry closer and mouthed at his shoulder while he moved his hand over him in turn, and Harry’s witty comments dissolved into moans that only Louis would understand meant

“Since I was three and you were six and you kissed my cheek and patted my hair and promised that you would stay with me forever and I wished my mum would never come back.”

Louis choked out a “Close.” And when Harry ran his other hand down Louis’s arm and their fingers slotted together, they both know that it meant what it had always meant.

“Together.”

They helped towel each other off with something like worship in their eyes, wordlessly grinning at each other as they walked down the stairs to the kitchen.

“Mum?” Louis asked, “Why are you still here? Don’t you work today?”

His mother’s eyes crinkled fondly and she swatted at Harry with a dish towel as the girls squealed.

“ _Someone_ with _obnoxious_ curls and a big _fat_ mouth apparently put in a good word for me at the hospital. I got promoted, Louis! Less hours and more pay.”

Louis grabbed his mother’s wrists in his hands and promptly began to sashay around the kitchen, stopping only to pull Harry in and give him a big, smacking kiss on the cheek. “You absolutely angelic _meddler_. I love you.”

Louis’s mum clasped her hands over her mouth and Louis realized belatedly that he had never actually told her they were dating. Her eyes welled up with tears and, for a second, Louis wondered if she wasn’t okay with it.

“I always knew it would be you.”

Harry laughed, but it sounded a bit like a sob as she pulled the two boys in for a hug that went on for ages.

“Wait, you talked to your dad?” Louis turned to Harry. He nodded. “But… you hate your dad.” Harry nodded again. “So… why?”

“I love you,” he said simply, shrugging.

Louis opened his mouth to tell him that didn’t answer his question, and then realized it kind of did.

It kind of answered all the questions.

#

Niall POV

Niall wasn’t hiding in the bathroom, per say. He was just, um, hanging out. Chilling. You know.

Niall was definitely hiding in the bathroom.

And he wasn’t _scared_ of Ed, exactly. No, it was just that at some point he had fallen in love with someone and now he had to deal with the fact that the boy was carrying the majority of Niall’s major organs with him, assuming by the empty feeling in his gut.

Okay, so Niall was definitely scared of Ed.

He was scared of Ed leaving, scared of the fact that he had been so unforgivably _Niall_ about the whole thing – too open and too happy-go-lucky and too stupid to see that he was head over heels until Ed was telling him he was _leaving_.

And, well, now what?

His stomach growled. Okay. Maybe some of the emptiness came from the fact that he had missed second breakfast and first lunch and he was starving. He edged towards the door slowly, like it might attack him if he startled it. He opened it slowly, only to hear it _thunk_ on something.

“Ow.”

Ed’s head, apparently, had been the something.

“Shit. Fuck. I’m so sorry. Fuck. Are you okay?” He cradled his head in his lap, running his fingers over his scalp gently in search of a bump.

“I’m fine. I’m great. Just don’t stop doing that?” Ed peered up at him shyly, and Niall realized he had done it again, fallen too easily as soon as it seemed Ed might need him.

“Fuck.” He hung his head, fingers frozen and buried in Ed’s hair. He gently backed away, leaning against the wall with his own head cradled in his hands.

“No, no, no don’t do that. Please? Don’t run away again. Stay. Let me explain,” Ed begged.

“Stop, Ed. It isn’t your fault. I know how I am. I probably got suffocating, and I know that I pushed too hard. I’m sorry. I just… I fall in love too much too fast and it probably got weird for you. It’s okay if you want to go. We can still be friends.”

Ed pushed his hands away from his face. “Babe, no. Fuck. Did you just? Did you just say you love me?”

Niall looked at the ground. “I may have insinuated.”

Ed laughed, and it was a little too frantic, a little high-pitched. That’s all the warning he got before he was wrapped in a bear hug, kisses peppered all over his skin. “You didn’t get suffocating, I was trying to give _you_ space. I love you, too. I thought it was way too early and it would freak you out, but holy _shit_ , Niall I love you, too. And I won’t just be your friend. Not ever.”

Niall’s grin was wide enough to hurt. They would figure the rest out later. Right now, he was going to take his boyfriend to get some Nando’s. Because he loved both Ed and Nando’s. And he was pretty sure they both loved him back.

#

Zayn POV

Zayn had never been so nervous in his entire life. The date had been perfect. Liam couldn’t stop smiling, so Zayn couldn’t stop smiling, and he could hardly breathe around the giddy squeal that was laying in wait in his throat.

But now, now Zayn was nervous.

Because he was walking Liam to his apartment door and his hands were shaking and it wasn’t like they hadn’t said goodnight before, wasn’t like this would be their first kiss. But it was their first date kiss at the end of their perfect first date, and if it wasn’t perfect, well… Zayn would probably cry all the way home and listen to Dashboard Confessional or some shit.

Because he was a badass until he met Liam.

Somehow, since then, he had become a total wuss. He was weirdly okay with that.

Still, as they got closer to the door, Zayn couldn’t help but wonder if tonight, Liam would invite him in.

Which is why it shocked him as much as it probably did Liam when he quickly pecked Liam on the cheek, said a rushed “‘Night,” and began to walk quickly towards his car, whispering the word “shit” over and over under his breath.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character asks, if you want


	19. Harry/Zayn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CODY IS A PROPER ANIMAL ;)

The blaring of the alarm had Harry jumping out of bed without even a moment of hesitation.

 

“Lou, time to get up!” He called over his shoulder as he switched off the alarm and began to rummage through Louis’s dresser (which he may or may not have commandeered when he moved in) for clean clothes. After donning a fresh pair of boxers Harry spun around and, seeing Louis still wrapped up in a tight little cocoon of comforters and sheets on _their_ bed, smiled. Every morning since he had finally realized that Louis Tomlinson was his had been like this: calm, routine, _perfect._

 

Stretching up onto the tips of his toes, Harry crept over to where his boyfriend was snoring softly on the bed.

 

“Louuuuu.” He sang in a low rasp. “Boobearrr, it’s time to get up.” Harry lowered himself so that his face was just inches from the other boy’s.

 

“Noooo.” Louis groaned. “Too earlyyy.”

 

“Aww, come on now.” Harry said softly. “I miss you. And we have to take your sisters to Laura Cunningham’s for her birthday party.”

 

Upon receiving no response from his boyfriend’s stubbornly motionless form, Harry began to pepper gentle, lingering kisses all over Louis’s face.

 

He heard Louis mutter something that sounded suspiciously like _notfairyoubigidiot_ , but was too busy being pulled atop the bed by small, insistent hands that he didn’t have time to retaliate.

 

“Feel better?” Harry, now sitting atop Louis, whispered. The other boy chomped down on his bottom lip and nodded vigorously.

 

“Me too.” Unable to help himself, he pressed his body flat against Louis’s smooth, hot skin and captured the other boy’s mouth with his own.

 

“Play. Date.” Harry growled as he forced himself to break the kiss.

 

“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” Louis drawled. “Mom said she’d take them. And, judging by the fact that I cannot hear tiny feet pitter pattering around in the hallways, they’re already gone.”

 

“Oh.” Harry tilted his head and was more than a little surprised to discover that the house was completely silent. Their mornings always started with the two of them taking Louis’s sisters to wherever it happened they needed to be. They never had the house to themselves, _never._

 

“Harry.” Louis’s pupils were huge, outlined by ridiculously thin rings of baby blue.

 

“Yes?” He gulped.

 

“Come here.” Louis rolled his hips and Harry, feeling the other boy’s excitement pressed flat against his bum, suddenly viewed the boxers that both he and Louis wore as extremely superfluous.

 

“Lou, I don’t know if I can…” He was cut off by Louis abruptly sitting up and pulling him into a rough kiss.

 

Louis’s mouth was hot on his and it was all Harry could do not to lose himself in his sweltering desire. Louis was _everywhere._ His hands were raking down Harry’s chest, lingering at each starkly outlined muscle, his teeth were nipping at Harry’s bottom lip, urging his mouth open, and his skin, holy _fuck_ his skin was silky and smoldering and burned Harry everywhere it touched him.

 

But Harry couldn’t pull away. He found himself gripping Louis’s shoulders and pulling the other boy closer despite the fact that he was convinced they would both burst into flames at any moment. He moaned and pressed down against the bulge in Louis’s boxers, needing the other boy closer, always _fuckingcloser_.

 

When Louis finally pulled away, Harry realized that the other boy was now on top of him, situated between his legs.

 

“Harry…” He croaked, his breath hot on Harry’s face.

 

“Yeah, babe?”

 

“I think I’m ready.” Harry’s eyes widened.

 

“Boobear, are you sure? Please don’t do this because of me. Your first time needs to be special and if you want to wait, we’ll fucking wait.” Needing to touch the other boy, Harry lifted an arm and cupped Louis’s face with his hand.

 

Louis turned his head and planted a deep kiss on Harry’s palm. “Fuck, Hazza. I’m sure. Of course I’m sure. Waking up to you every morning and taking care of each other as if we’ve been doing it our entire lives… it’s perfect. I fucking love you Harry Styles.”

 

Harry swallowed hard. This boy, this amazing, beautiful, intelligent boy, the only person whom he had ever really loved, loved him back.

 

“I love you too, Lou. So fucking much. You can have all of me, every last piece.”

 

Louis growled and, hands shaking, bent down to pry Harry’s boxers (not without quite a bit of… umm, resistance) from his body. He then hopped off of the bed, kicked off his own boxers, and retrieved a condom and a container of lube from the top drawer of their dresser.

 

“You sure?” Louis whispered as he positioned himself once again between Harry’s legs.

 

“Positive… just, Lou?”

 

“Yeah, babe?”

 

“Be careful with me… I’ve never done this before.” Harry bit his bottom lip.

 

“Always, Haz. Always.”

 

He nodded and tried to relax as he waited… and waited… and waited. Trying not to laugh, he watched as Louis fumbled around with the condom. The other boy’s fingers were visibly shaking and he appeared to be having a hard time getting it on.

 

“Umm, sorry. One second…” He said, noticing Harry’s attentive gaze.

 

“It’s okay” He replied, shooting Louis a reassuring smile.

 

 After only a moment or two more of fumbling, they were both ready.

 

Harry fisted his hands in the sheets as Louis began to enter him. As promised, Louis was gentle, but Harry still needed time to adjust and, at first, all he felt was a dull pain.

 

“You okay, Haz?” Louis, slightly out of breath, asked. “Do you need me to stop?”

 

“No. Just umm, a little to the left?”

 

Louis nodded and adjusted his position. The pain lessened some and Harry reached down to stroke himself as Louis worked his way in farther, stopping periodically to let Harry get used to him.

 

“Oh, god. A little to the right, Lou.” Louis stifled a laugh and readjusted himself.

 

The pain receded even more. Harry let out a low moan and pushed closer to Louis, urging the other boy closer. Both overcome by an animalistic desire, the two boys moved to kiss each other at the same time and, in their haste, bashed their foreheads together.

 

“I’m so sorry!” Louis said, letting out a short, breathy laugh.

 

“It’s okay!” Harry chortled. “But, Lou?”

 

“Yeah, babe?”

 

“I need you to kiss me. Right. Now.”

 

Harry groaned when he felt Louis’s demanding lips against his own. The pain was almost entirely gone and the other boy was completely inside of him. He bucked against Louis, burrowing his hands in the other boy’s hair.

 

Louis responded by picking up the pace, his thrusts rapidly gaining both power and momentum. Harry tore his lips from Louis’s and turned his attention to his boyfriend’s slender neck, earning a series of loud moans that drove him absolutely _insane_ with ecstasy.

 

Harry could feel the pressure building in his groin and began stroking himself more vigorously.

 

“Fuck, Lou. I’m so close!” He moaned, no longer harboring any semblance of control over his reactions.

 

“Me too!” Louis brought his mouth crashing down against Harry’s.

 

Their lips had barely met before they were sharing one last scream as, together, they went flying over the edge.

 

“Fuck, babe. You were amazing.” Louis panted before falling to the bed beside Harry.

  
“So were you, Lou. Holy _hell_ , so were you.” Harry replied, unable to keep himself from grinning. Feeling sated and a bit sore, he rolled onto his side and pulled Louis against his chest.

 

“I love you, Louis Tomlinson. Forever.” He said and rested his head on top of Louis’s.

 

“And I love you, Harry Styles. Always.”

 

Harry reached down, intertwined his hand with Louis’s, and closed his eyes, thrilled at the possibility that the rest of his life would be filled with moments just like this.

 

*Zayn

 

Zayn had been driving all night. After running not so gracefully away from Liam, the prospect of being alone in his apartment with his overwhelming anxiety was just more than he could bear. So, being the supremely rational and utterly fabulous being that he was, he had decided to outdrive everything that he was trying to avoid.

 

To be fair, this tactic had worked for a time. But now that he could see the first few rays of sunlight beginning to flow over the horizon, Zayn realized that there was one serious flaw in his plan: fatigue. No longer driven by a combination of blind terror and adrenaline, it was all Zayn could do to keep his eyelids open long enough to pull his car into the parking lot outside of his apartment building.

 

“Where did I put that damn key?” Zayn muttered as he simultaneously rummaged through his messenger bag and stumbled to his front door. Where he walked face first into Liam’s warm, well-muscled chest.

 

“Oh, umm… fuck!” Zayn jumped back a step and stylishly flipped his hair out of his eyes. “Oh, hey Liam. What brings you here?”

 

Liam just stared back at him with big, sad, puppy dog eyes. And just like that, the cool composure that Zayn had been trying to maintain shattered.

 

“Christ! How long have you been here, Li?” His voice may or may not have cracked once… or twice, but at this point he didn’t really care.

 

“Basically since you left.” Liam dropped his head and shuffled his feet. “It’s just, you ran off before we could have our first end of the night after our first date kiss. And, I don’t know, I just wanted to make sure everything was okay…”

 

“That’s it, I fucking quit.” Zayn flopped to the ground and sprawled out on his back. “You’re so freaking perfect and I actually can’t anymore, so I’m just going to lay here.”

 

Big brown eyes and a wide, dopey smile stared down at him. “Then why did you leave?”

 

“ _Because_.” Zayn raked a hand through his hair. “The date was perfect and you were perfect and everything was perfect!”

 

“I… umm, I don’t follow.”

 

Zayn made a noise that was at least 50% dying animal. “I wanted the end of the night kiss to be just as amazing as everything else had been, Li. But _I’m_ not perfect and I knew I’d mess it up, so I panicked.”

 

Liam sat down beside Zayn and smiled even wider. “You’re ridiculous. May I please tell you why?”

 

“If you must.”

 

“Because there wasn’t any way you could have messed up that kiss. As long as I got to share it with you, my ridiculous and overly dramatic and altogether _incredible_ boyfriend, it would have been beyond perfect. I like you Zayn Malik, and seeing as I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon, I think you had better get used to it.”

 

“You know, Liam, I think I must be hallucinating. Can you repeat what you just said?”

 

Liam rolled his eyes. “I said you owe me a kiss, Malik. So please don’t move.” With that, Liam dropped into a push-up position over Zayn’s motionless form, placing one hand on each side of the other boy’s head.

 

A faint blush on his high cheekbones, Zayn closed his eyes. Liam’s lips were incredibly _soft._ They melded gently with his own, the kiss intimate and reassuring and not demanding in the least.

 

When Liam finally pulled away, Zayn was out of breath. He stared up at his boyfriend, whose eyes glowed golden in the morning light, and smiled. Though not what he expected, he couldn’t deny that their first kiss was, in fact, _perfect._

 

*Harry

 

Something felt _wrong_. Harry reached out to the other side of the bed, searching for the familiar warmth, but found only cold sheets. Wild curls plastered to his forehead, he bolted into a sitting position.

 

“Lou!?” He called. “LOUIS!?”

 

Upon receiving no response, Harry placed a hand against his chest and tried to fight down his rising panic. Where was Louis? He was always there when Harry woke. Had he left without telling him?

 

A stream of images suddenly flooded into Harry’s mind. Taylor, frantically scrambling for her clothes after they had finished having sex. Monica, telling him that he wasn’t the type of guy that girls actually wanted to date. Bar girl, whose name he couldn’t even remember, leaving without so much as a polite goodbye. Had Louis left him too?

 

The familiar numbness began to snake its way throughout his body. He curled into a ball, his mind buzzing incoherently, and began to shake.

 

Then Louis came bounding into the room wearing nothing but the headphones that were currently connected to his iPod. He was dancing in circles, fiercely shaking his bum as he belted out the words to Tik Tok.

 

“Babe!” He called when he saw that Harry was awake. Grinning, he launched himself onto the bed and curled up against Harry’s back. “About time you’re awake!”

 

And just like that the numbness was gone. Instead, Harry felt as if someone had poured liquid sunlight into his blood. He rolled onto his side, beaming maniacally, and pulled Louis into a fierce bear hug.

 

“Aww, did ya miss me?” Louis asked playfully.

 

“Most definitely.” He pressed a soft kiss to Louis’s forehead.

 

“Hmm, well I can think of a few ways that you can show me how happy you are to see me…”

 

“Oh, really? How?” Harry arched an eyebrow.

 

 Louis answered by disappearing under the covers and giving Harry the best wake-up call that he had ever received. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are welcome


	20. Everyone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is the last chapter! Don't worry, we've decided to post an epilogue, but OH MY GOD. We'd like to thank everyone who reads and comments, especially people like:  
> embro, ness_xoxo, Masquerade, Anehemm, 1d_larryshipper, and Ana. So many more, too! Thank you guys.  
> I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Cody, my one true love, and his one true love, Alex. I SHIP IT SO HARD OH MY GOD. And to my roommates and friends, who read this even though it got weird.

Chapter 20  
Louis POV

“Well that was fun.” Harry’s eyes were still a little bleary, the irises thin green rings.

“Fun for you,” Louis griped, rubbing his jaw to hide his smile.

“Not my fault I’m massive,” Harry teased, smirking.

“Oh shut the hell up. We compare dicks one time in seventh grade and you lord it over me for the rest of our lives.”

“Yeah, Lou.” Harry nosed at Louis’s neck, “For the rest of our lives.”

“Jesus Christ, H. We get some good banter going and then you get all sappy and…” he trailed off, dissolving into helpless giggles when he saw Harry’s pout. “You know, babe, we’re supposed to be grownups now.”

“No, Lou. We’re supposed to be kids.”

Louis looked down at Harry, who was staring at him earnestly from underneath his eyelashes. “I never really felt like a kid, you know. Not unless I was with you.” Harry squeezed his hand and pressed his lips against Louis’s collarbone, knowing he wouldn’t be able to keep talking if Harry was looking at him. “After… after Mark left, I knew I was supposed to take care of everyone, but you took care of me, didn’t you?”

Harry blushed, “Shut up, we took care of each other.”

Louis grinned, “Nah, I just got you in trouble all the time. You were the one following me around with a first aid kit.”

“THAT WAS ONE TIME.”

“Love, you pulled three band-aids, a roll of gauze, aspirin, and Neosporin out of your sock. OUT OF YOUR SOCK.”

“Just wanted to keep you safe,” Harry slurred, sleepy after his orgasm.

“Always safe with you,” Louis nuzzled his answer into Harry’s curls and drifted off, feeling younger and more ancient than he had ever felt.

#

“What are we going to do?” Zayn dropped into his seat abruptly.

“For what?” Louis groaned, well-aware that Zayn was being a drama queen again.

“The talent show of course!”

“Do you think we should do it?” Harry replied, tilting his head quizzically.

“No, absolutely. You know that the show won’t be the same without the boyband in it.” Zayn was adamant.

“Is that whole boyband thing still ironic, now that we’re all in gay relationships?” Louis asked.

“IT WAS MEANT TO BE IRONIC?” Niall bellowed, offended.

“We need to get Liam and Ed onstage, too,” Harry mused.

“I just texted Ed, and he won’t do it,” Niall frowned. “But apparently, he’s already arranged a song for the rest of us in five part harmony.”

“What song?” Louis asked.

Niall just smiled his most evil little smile.

#

The day of the talent show, everyone packed into the auditorium. The boys were taking turns peeking from behind the curtain to watch them fill in.

“Nervous?” Liam’s lips tickled Zayn’s ear and he giggled before relaxing into his boyfriend’s arms. 

“Not really. It almost feels like we’ve performed together before, you know?”

Louis looked at him, “You feel that way too? I wonder if, in an alternate reality, we’re like, actually a boyband.”

“Yeah! And we sell out huge venues. And there’s glitter. So much glitter.” Zayn sighed regretfully.

“Who do you guys think are our biggest rivals?” Niall asked. Everyone turned to look at him. “What? Every famous boyband needs some arch rivals.”

“I think that’s superheroes, mate,” Liam interjected.

“No, no he’s right,” Harry defended, “Maybe our rivals would be that group of guys that we killed in that pickup football game in the park last week. The one with matching jerseys?”

The rest of the boys laughed. “God they were so ridiculous. What was their team name again? The Wanted?”

“And definitely Chris Brown,” Harry added. “Or people like him.”

“You mean homophobic assholes?” Niall corrected. “That’s a lot of rivals.”

“And definitely, definitely Taylor Swift,” Louis said.

“SHE WON’T STOP TEXTING ME,” Harry whined loudly.

Just then, Taylor flounced by, onto stage, slamming her shoulder into Louis on the way. 

“It’s okay, Taylor. I have Harry to catch me,” Louis called after her, along with a resounding chorus of:

“Heyyyy!”

“Don’t touch him!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you.”

And Zayn’s “STOP TRYING TO MAKE GRANDMA-CHIC HAPPEN. IT’S NOT GOING TO HAPPEN.”

She began to play her guitar, and the boys nodded along reluctantly. It was a catchy song, one they knew would be stuck in their heads. It would have been fine, except Taylor kept staring over at Harry pointedly.

“I remember when we broke up the first time”

“Were we ever together? Because I feel like we couldn’t break up if we weren’t together,” Harry whispered in Louis’s ear.

“Saying ‘This is it, I’ve had enough,’ ‘cause like/We hadn’t seen each other in a month/When you said you needed space. What?”

“That’s it! There’s your sign!” Zayn giggled.

“Then you come around again and say/ ‘Baby, I miss you and I swear I’m gonna change, trust me.’”

“I said no such thing!” Harry gasped.

“Remember how that lasted for a day?/I say ‘I hate you,’ we break up, you call me, ‘I love you.’”

“Oh my god, Harry,” Niall was literally rolling on the ground. “You wanted to date that.”

“Ooh, we called it off again last night/But ooh, this time I’m telling you, I’m telling you/We are never ever ever getting back together,/We are never ever ever getting back together,/You go talk to your friends, talk to my friends, talk to me/But we are never ever ever getting back together./ Like ever.”

“This is such a train wreck. Holy shit.” Liam was wheezing at this point. 

The song continued to escalate until it hit a strange spoken word part.

“Is she going to rap? Oh sweet Jesus please let her rap,” Louis giggled helplessly into Harry’s chest. 

“Ughhhh… so he calls me up and he’s like, ‘I still love you,’/And I’m like “I’m sorry, I’m busy opening up the school talent show’/And we’re never getting back together./Like ever.”

“Oh my god does she think this is, like, the Grammy’s or something?”

“I have no idea.” The boys were all trying to smother their laughter with their hands, but Taylor kept looking over and glaring, setting them off all over again. Finally, the song was over, and Taylor came backstage. 

“Yeah, so basically, I never want to get back together with you, Harry.”

“I mean, I have a boyfriend, so that’s probably for the best. Also, when were we even together?” Harry responded, quirking and eyebrow and holding Louis’s hand tightly.

Taylor just rolled her eyes and stomped away.

Niall lost it, giggling even harder. “Please tell me someone else noticed the camel toe that just happened. Please.”

When Ed came backstage to figure out why it was taking so long for the boys to start their performance, he found them in a helpless heap of laughter.

“Oi. Consummate professionals! Get off the floor and go perform.”

“Ugh,” Louis groaned. “If we were a boyband, guaranteed we would hate management.”

The boys ran onto the stage, and Ed stood in the corner with an acoustic guitar.

“1,2,3,4” he counted off, then began layering sound, a drum beat the palm of his hand slapping his guitar, some strumming repeated a third above it, until there was a complex song threading itself together above all of their heads.

“Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want/So tell me what you want, what you really, really want/I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want/So tell me what you want, what you really, really want/I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna really/Really, really wanna zigazig ah” The five boys burst into song, jumping around the stage and doing strange dance moves.

The audience went wild.

“If you want my future, forget my past/If you wanna get with me, better make it fast/Now don't go wasting my precious time/Get your act together, we could be just fine,” Louis crooned, thrusting his pelvis at the first row and smirking when a girl fainted.

Harry grinned and blew a kiss. A girl shrieked “Harry, I want your gravy!”

“What does that even mean?” Harry yelled back, pulling Louis in and kissing him on the cheek as they broke into the chorus again.

Zayn started swiveling his hips and a girl in the third row scribbled a quick sign”

ZAYN’S EYELASHES FOR PRIME MINISTER

Liam’s solo began, “If you wanna be my lover, you have got to give/Taking is too easy, but that's the way it is.” Another sign went up.

CONFIRMED. LIAM IS A BOTTOM.

The song continued, and the crowd just got louder and louder. The boys began to look at each other, panicked. Finally, the song ended, all five of them in an over the top Charlie’s Angels pose. The audience stormed the stage.

“What the fuck was that??” Louis asked, throwing himself into their dressing room and barricading the door.

“I don’t know,” Harry was rubbing at his scalp, where a particularly ferocious girl had ripped at his curls.

“Fuck fame,” Zayn replied. “Let’s never do this again.

Niall crowded into Ed’s lap, “People need to chill.”

Liam grimaced at his iPhone. “Well, I’m deleting twitter. This is insane.”

#

They were stuck in the room for awhile, all piled up on each other. There was something comforting in the way they all slotted together, like something about them just fit.

“Well,” Niall broke the sleepy silence, “Now is as good a time as any to tell you guys that I got into Dublin U.”

The boys cheered, group-hugging him until he groaned that he couldn’t breathe.

“Wait,” Harry stopped. “What about Ed?”

“He’s coming with,” Niall said casually. There was nothing casual about the way Ed pulled him in and kissed his forehead.

“You’ll come visit us at Man U, right?” Louis asked, eyes wide.

“As if I could leave you and H alone,” Niall grinned.

“And of course, we’ll all come back to Donny to visit Zayn and Li,” Harry added.“Because we’re family, and this is our home.”

And honestly, none of them felt homeless anymore.

#

“So this is it? We all get a happy ending?” Zayn laughed incredulously.

“Looks like it,” Niall responded and Ed shook his head, knowing that Niall was the only person in the world who could be so calm about this kind of happiness. 

“If this were a movie,” Harry started, and Louis groaned, thinking he was going to pull out his iPhone and start instagramming pictures of the six boys, all tangled together on a picnic blanket behind Harry’s gigantic house, watching the sun set and passing around a bottle of beer, too lazy to get more from a cooler sitting just feet away. “If this were a movie,” Harry continued, cutting his eyes at Louis, “What do you think it would be called?”

“That Time When Harry Finally Manned Up and Did the Thing?” Niall suggested.

“That Time When Everyone was Gay and Nothing Hurt?” Zayn added.

“Or That Time When No One Told Harry that Louis was in Love with Him. For Years,” Harry whined.

“‘It Was Obvious, You Butthead,’ coming to a theater near you,” Louis said in a ridiculous voice.

“What about… what about ‘This is Us?’” Liam asked shyly.

“I like it,” Zayn said immediately. Liam rolled his eyes, “No really. ‘This is Us.’ Like, we fuck up sometimes, and we all have massive chips on our shoulders. None of us has ever really fit in with anyone but each other. We never know what we’re doing, but there’s something really good about the way we all fit together, and, whether it means something or not,” he shrugged, “‘This is Us.’”

“Yeah,” Liam breathed, leaning back against Zayn.

“To us,” Louis said, lifting the bottle of beer, before realizing no one else had one, and shrugging.

“To us,” the rest replied. It sounded like a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


	21. Everyone, but mostly Louis/ Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter, guys! I'm posting right away, because you all deserve it, but I wanted to also let you know that I will be editing this chapter to make sure that you get all of the treats you guys deserve! They will be found in the story notes as soon as I finish them!  
> 1\. A Larry Playlist for this fic  
> 2\. A Ziam Playlist for this fic  
> 3\. A Ned Playlist for this fic  
> 4\. The summary of our next fic, which we will start posting next Sunday!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We gave a shout out to our favorite AO3 reviewers last week, so this week we would like to thank the 1DFF.com reviewers that have made us squeal giddily.
> 
> Jcogz  
> dark queen of awesomeness  
> mimmsku  
> brooklyn14  
> melrose (WHO MADE US A BANNER)  
> dancingharry16  
> Lorraineee
> 
> And tons of others. Thank you so much for reading!!

“Right,” Harry said, coming to a stop in front of Zayn and Louis. “Right, so. Yes.”

 

“It’s okay, dipshit,” Zayn rolled his eyes, “We’re complete wrecks over graduation, too.”

 

“Thank God,” Harry sighed, burying his head in Louis’s chest. “We hated this place the whole time we were here. Why does it feel like I’m going to die without it?”

 

 “Because we didn’t hate it, love,” Louis spoke up. Harry looked up at him, body curved and stooped until he could fit his cheek into the hollow of his throat. “We didn’t hate this place. We hated the bullies and the assholes, we hated some of the teachers. But we didn’t hate this place. Because it’s where we all found each other.”

 

Zayn groaned, “Lou, you start dating this little shit and become a proper sap. I don’t know what to do with you.”

 

“Heyyyyy,” Harry whined. “As if you’re any different. Give me your phone.”

 

“I will do no such thing!”

 

Louis calmly put his hand out and Zayn groaned, ducked his head, and dropped the phone into Louis’s hand. Because… Louis. Louis just smirked, handing it over to Harry.

 

“Come on, guys! There are nudes in there,” Zayn begged.

 

“Hah! Exactly what I thought,” Harry grinned. “No nudes. Actually, I don’t think you two have sexted at all. In fact, all I see here are adorable, lovey-dovey things.”

 

“Okay! I admit it!”  Zayn buried his face in his hands dramatically, being very careful not to mess up his hair. “I’m whipped, okay! I text him ‘goodnight’ before I fall asleep! I might get a pet turtle, because he has a weird thing for them! I BOUGHT A WEDDING CATALOG AT THE GROCERY STORE LAST WEEK!”

 

Harry and Louis gripped each other’s shoulders, trying to stay upright while they laughed hysterically, just as Liam wrapped his arms around Zayn from behind.

 

“Um. Hey, babe.” Zayn’s voice dropped several octaves and he desperately tried to smolder, but it was to no avail. Liam had heard.

 

“Zayn,” he said into his boyfriend’s ear.

 

“Sorry sorry sorry you weren’t supposed to hear that,” Zayn’s caramel skin wasn’t covering his blush

 

Liam spun him around and pulled him in close. “I’m just as whipped as you are. You don’t need to pretend with me,” he breathed, dotting kisses along Zayn’s cheeks.

 

“Yeah?” Zayn’s eyes were wide, looking up through his thick eyelashes at Liam like he was the second coming of Christ.

 

“Yeah.” Liam grinned and rubbed their noses together until Zayn giggled.

 

“Did you just throw up?” Louis stage whispered to Harry. “Because I just threw up. In my mouth. A little bit.”

 

“Oi. You let Curly over here call you Boobear. Pot meet marijuana.” Liam puffed his chest out proudly.

 

The other boys looked at each other blankly.

 

“Oh! He meant ‘pot meet kettle,’ right, babe?” Zayn giggled.

 

Liam shook his head bashfully. “I’m such a donut sometimes.”

 

Louis shook his head. “I feel like some sort of cream-filled joke should be made here, but I’m trying to be all graduation-sentimental, so I’ll let it go.”

 

“See?” Harry cracked, throwing an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders, “Soon he’ll be fit to interact with other members of his species.”

 

The next thing they knew, the four boys were being knocked over by Niall, who was carefully clutching a ham sandwich in one hand, and Ed, who kept taking bites out of the sandwich when Niall wasn’t looking.

 

“I CAN’T BELIEVE WE’RE GRADUATING, LADS,” Niall yelled, promptly bursting into tears.

 

Ed quickly pulled him in, nuzzling his face into his soft hair and making a frantic face at the rest of the boys, mouthing “He’s been like this all day HELP.”

 

The others shrugged, and then started to pet at Niall awkwardly.

 

“Oh, sod off, the lot of you. Fucking Brits. Don’t even know how to give a good cuddle on GRADUATION DAYYYY,” Niall started wailing again, and the boys promptly tackled him into a strange, six-person group hug.  

 

 “Ni?” Harry whined, “Can you stop chewing that sandwich? We’re trying to have a moment here.”

 

At that point, their families came rushing over. Photographs were taken in caps and gowns, Louis’s and Niall’s mums blubbered all over the boys, and Harry found himself looking fondly at the circle of people that made up his family.

 

He was surprised to feel a tap on his shoulder. Everyone he loved was already there. But when he turned around to see his father and sister behind him, a knot loosened in his chest.

 

“You came,” he said, too shocked to show any emotion.

 

“Yes, we did. Your boyfriend sent me 12 invitations.” Gemma shook her head. “Persuasive little bugger isn’t he?”

 

Harry grinned, “He’s the best.”

 

“I’m glad someone’s been good to you, Harry. I know we’ve neglected you…” His father trailed off as Harry raised his hand, stopping him.

 

“Let’s not do this today, yeah? Let’s just… can we just be okay today?”

 

His dad smirked, and Gemma threw an arm around him. “Sounds good to me!” she piped. The two joined the ever-growing circle that was Harry’s home. Louis pulled his arm over his shoulder and kissed him on the cheek. And, yeah. Maybe Harry had never really been homeless.

 

Graduation was fantastically boring for everyone except Zayn, who provocatively stripped off his cap and gown and threw glitter into the audience as soon as he had his diploma in hand. Harry and Louis bullied the poor bloke whose last name was Thomas until he let them stand together, just as inseparable as they had always been.

 

And that should have been that. But, of course, it wasn’t. Chris insisted on pushing Louis’s shoulder when he was placed next to him in their class picture. Harry barely needed to say anything anymore. He simply wriggled his way between the two, whispering “So, five o’clock, then?” to the bully while Louis rolled his eyes.

 

“What was that all about?” Harry’s dad asked him later.

 

“Just some homophobe,” Harry replied.

 

“Do people still do that? I thought evolution took care of that a while back.”

 

“That’s cavemen, dad.”

 

“In my defense, the two species are easily confused.”

 

Harry chuckled and reached for Louis, tugging him in to place a kiss at his temple, knocking his cap askew. “At least they’re good exercise, right, Lou?”

 

Louis rolled his eyes, “Your son insists on beating the crap out of them. He’s nearly as prehistoric as they are, you see.”

 

“Sorry about that. He gets that from me.”

 

Louis wrinkled his nose and Harry cooed at him.

 

“So are we going to see this fight, or not? Your mother told me you were boxing. I didn’t realize that it was some sort of anti-bullying movement, but I’d like to come to a match.”

 

“Be prepared for homoerotic rituals, sir!” Zayn called from under Liam’s arm, cheeky as ever.

 

Harry and Louis blinked innocently at each other.

 

“Who? Us?” Louis asked.

 

“IT’S FINE. WE’RE IN A BOYBAND,” Harry yelled back.

 

#

 

“Ready, Harry?” Louis said, grinning at his overconfident, arrogant, beautiful boyfriend.

 

Harry smirked, just like he always did, “‘Course, love.”

 

“Promise me you’ll be careful?” Louis asked, carding his hands through Harry’s curls.

 

“Always am.”

 

Louis was the only one who knew just how untrue that was – just how hard he threw himself into everything, all offense and no defense. He smiled anyway, fondly, because how could he not? “Okay, babe. Go kick his arse.”

 

Harry cupped his hand around the nape of Louis’s neck and brought their foreheads together, the same way he always had. But it was different too, because when Harry said “It’s all for you, Lou. You know that right? All for you,” Louis believed it. It was different because he lifted Louis’s chin until their lips met and Louis felt a shudder run through him to his toes.

 

Harry smirked. _Arrogant bastard_.

 

“Be safe, please.”

 

Harry grinned, “Now that I have you to come back to? I’ll be twice as careful.”

 

Louis rolled his eyes, “Alright, drama queen. You aren’t going off to war.”

 

Harry shrugged, shameless. “Thought I’d see how much I could milk it.”

 

Liam chucked him his gloves and mouth guard while his attention remained focused on Louis. They bounced off of his cheekbone and Harry sighed. “Well, there went the romance.”

 

He bit down on the mouth guard and put the gloves on, holding his wrists out so Louis could tighten the straps (“Really, Styles, you’d be completely useless without me.”) (“Obviously.”).

 

Then he walked to the middle of the ring, knocking his fists against Brown’s and somehow managing to smirk around his mouth guard.

 

Louis wobbled back to the benches, collapsing next to Zayn and Niall.

 

“Never had a chance, huh?” Zayn asked.

 

Louis shrugged. “Never wanted one.”

 

And it was true. Because Harry’s his person, as much as anyone can have a person. He spoke too slowly and, yeah okay, his hair was kind of ridiculous and his jeans were way too tight. He spent two hours lecturing Zayn and Louis when he found out that they smoked a joint behind the school. He was obsessed with instagram and he was always giving Louis’s sisters too many sweets and taking up much more than his half of the bed. He regularly bragged about his ability to belch the alphabet and he insisted on fighting violence with violence. He was the neediest, most insecure human being Louis thought he had ever met and yet everything came much too easy for him. _Plus_ , Louis thought, wrinkling his brow, _he won’t stop growing. I’m going to look positively miniscule next to him in a couple of years._

 

But he couldn’t remember a time before Harry, even though he knew one existed, and sometimes he thought he must have repressed those memories, because life without Harry didn’t even make sense to him. Harry smiled like nothing bad could touch him and he laughed so loudly, sometimes Louis was worried he was going to hurt himself. He insisted that he could twerk and hated wearing clothing and, one time, when Phoebe and Daisy decided to make him a flower crown, he wore it for an entire day, unironically. He made the best chocolate scones Louis had ever tried and he spoke French fluently and he always got the highest marks in calculus, but he still counted on his fingers. He had a million stupid, pointless tattoos, but he swore that they all had meanings. Basically, Louis couldn’t tell anymore which ones were his good points and which were his bad ones, because they were all _Harry_. And maybe that meant that there weren’t any bad people, just people with character traits that were only important because they added up and became a person that someone else could love. Or something.

 

Basically, Harry was the reason for his faith in humanity, and Louis thought that meant something.

 

So it just seemed right that Harry suddenly called time, even though he was barely winded and Chris was already looking bleary around the edges.

 

“Babe!” he called, leaning over the ropes. Louis trotted over.

 

“Everything alright, love?”

 

Harry shook his curls out of his eyes and smiled, uncalculated. “Just really wanted to kiss you, is all.”

 

Louis laughed and leaned in, brushing his lips against Harry’s for a second. “Better, love?”

 

Harry pouted. “I guess it’ll have to do. Can you maybe grab my backup mouth guard, too? This one doesn’t feel right.”

 

“What’s the magic word?” Louis teased.

 

“Pleaseeeeee,” Harry begged, and just like that, Louis could see him at three, all eyes and a stupid bowl cut, and at four with a My Little Pony obsession, and at five with a pet tarantula that Louis hated, and at six with Scooby-Doo pajamas, and at seven with gum in his hair, and at eight with cookie crumbs dusting his mouth, and at nine with his first pair of glasses, and at ten with baby fat on his hips, and at eleven with his first girlfriend, and at twelve with his purple Jack Wills jumper, and at thirteen with his first beer, and at fourteen with too-big feet, and at fifteen with long, tangling limbs, and at sixteen, getting his first tattoo. And the thing was… the thing was that there had never been a version of Harry he didn’t love. So he kissed him a bit longer, then, and pressed a quick “love you,” into his mouth before darting off to grab the mouth guard.

 

The funny thing was, though, that as soon as Louis turned around, Harry called time in. Confused, Louis opened Harry’s gym bag, groping blindly for the small box that would hold the guard and opening it.

 

A simple silver band sat inside the box.

 

And yeah, Louis was going to have to punch Harry a few times for doing this while he was boxing, the coward. And JESUS CHRIST it better only be a promise ring, but.

 

But he had never really had a chance, had he?

 

And if he had, well, he would have chosen not to take it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's the end. Cody is not here right now, but we're texting back and forth and, well, we just wanted to say that this has been a great experience. We're going to miss these characters so much. This kind of feels like a graduation for us. We've only known each other for 9 months, and we've been writing this for about 5. It's just... it's weird. And I'm getting sappy. We love you!

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, you read it. You might as well review..... please?
> 
> Here's the preview for our next fanfiction:
> 
> Where You Go, I Go  
> “Simon yelled, ‘Remember, lads this is a sacred relationship. Spies and their Handlers must be closer than most spouses to survive.’  
> Which, like, that would be okay, except Harry was staring directly at the boy he fucked in the toilets at the club the night before.”  
> In which Harry and Louis are secret agent partners who probably shouldn’t fall in love.  
> The title’s a line from Skyfall, by Adele. The story, otherwise, has very little to do with Bond.
> 
>  
> 
> Larry Homeless Houses mix: http://8tracks.com/raven-diltz/firefly-larry-homeless-houses-mix  
> Ziam Homeless Houses mix: http://8tracks.com/raven-diltz/say-you-like-me-a-ziam-homeless-houses-playlist  
> Ned Homeless Houses mix: http://8tracks.com/raven-diltz/we-ll-be-alright-ned-homeless-houses-playlist


End file.
